Gios ti s Thýellas kai tou Ouranoú
by Sar'Kalu
Summary: AU. TriggerWarnings. PotentialSlash/FemSlash. Fleeing his past and in search of safety and a new future, a mysterious man arrives at Camp Half-Blood in the company of Death and bearing a Child of Legacy. Known only as 'Harry', the man will shake the very foundations of Olympus and create a Legend all his own.
1. Part One: 'Ptí si s í Páli s'

**Title**

Gios ti̱s Thýellas kai tou Ouranoú

**Author**

Sar'Kalu

Summery

_Fleeing his past and in search of safety and a new future, a mysterious man arrives at Camp Half-Blood in the company of Death and bearing a Child of Legacy. Known only as 'Harry', the man will shake the very foundations of Olympus and create a Legend all his own._

Disclaimer

_Harry Potter_ is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Warner Brothers, and their affiliates. _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_ is the intellectual property of Rick Rorden, Puffin Books and Fox 2000, and their affiliates.

Rating

Subject to Change:

K+: Minor violence, expletives and some nudity. May eventually contain sexual themes (explicit or otherwise) and potentially slash and femslash.

* * *

><p><span>Part One<span>

'Ptí̱si̱s í̱ Páli̱s'

The car was smoking. Vapour trailing from underneath the hood, the front bumper crunched inwards, metal spiking upwards, revealing the cars innards. The tree that the driver had run into was an ancient pine tree, the needles falling in a shower of green, brown and gold. The trunk, shattered and scraped beyond repair, while the driver lay, spreadeagled, across the bonnet, blood leaking from his temples. Inside the car, the squalling of a child echoed loudly, his panicked, gasping cries unheard by his father.

There was little sound, bar for the small boys cries, the rustle of the non-existent wind through the rattling pines; the crunch of heavy footsteps, muffled by loamy soil. The drivers shattered rib cage lifted, his mouth opening. Eyes, hazy with death, cleared and blinked rapidly, tears falling like rivulets as pain expanded and lanced through his damaged body. The footsteps drew ever closer. The driver gasped, his lungs whistling and choking, blood leaking from the rents in his clothing. Arms flailed, trying to gain purchase on the slippery, blood slicked hood of the car.

The man slid sideways, hitting the tree with a dull thud. The trunk, damaged and broke, creaked loudly. It snapped, metal screeching in protest as the bumper, practically fused to the bark of the pine tree, was torn away in a shower of sparks and wood chips. The driver shouted in pain, a spear of blood wood driven through his chest mercilessly while the tree fell away, landing with a muffled crash on the forest floor. The road, quiet and dead, gleamed with the approach of headlights. The white lines flickering and dancing as a fire was lit beneath the hood of the crashed car.

The driver, dead once more, was sprawled across the bonnet of his car, the screams of his son, loud in the unforgiving silence. The roar of a car approached and with a gasp of re-inflated lungs, the man drew breath, crying out as pain once more raced through his system. A shaking hand reached up, grasping the haft of the tree batch that had lanced through his ruined chest, and pulled it free with a wet, sucking sound. The drivers scream woke his son up, and twin sounds drifted through the open window of the approaching vehicle.

The driver frowned, her gentle eyes concerned as she listened to the sound of a crying baby. Foolishly, she pulled over, unclicking her seatbelt with halfhearted awareness. Stumbling free of the silver hatchback, the woman left her sleeping boyfriend alone as she staggered down a steep incline and froze at the sight of the ruined car and the man sprawled across its bonnet. The woman screamed, her face a rictus of horror, her hands fluttering uncertainly in front of her. Her boyfriend jerked awake, hitting his head on the glass of the window. Clinging to his forehead, groaning in pain, he followed the sound of his girlfriends scream, nearly breaking a leg as he staggered down the slope.

"Oh my God!" He yelled, throwing himself at the man's side, tugging his shirt off and pressing it to the gaping hole in the other drivers chest. "Becky, shut up!" He roared, turning to the still sobbing woman who was staring at the wreck in shock and horror. "Call the fucking ambulance!"

"O-okay," Becky stammered, pulling her phone from her jeans, dropping it in her haste to be helpful. Dropping to her knees, Becky searched for the phone, her boyfriend rolling his eyes in aggravation. "I found it," she whispered, avoiding his expectant gaze. She typed in double nine, one, pressing call with shaking fingers. Threading her fingers through her thick, auburn hair, Becky gasped when the line finally connected. "Oh my God!" She shrilled, "there's been a crash on 59th! You've gotta get out here!"

The boyfriend groaned, "oh man." Shaking his head, he dropped the shirt he'd been holding to the gasping man's chest, snatching Becky's arm and pressing the bloody cloth into her hands and directing her to hold it tightly to the mans chest. "Don't let go," he ordered. Becky nodded, her eyes wide with shock. He turned to the phone, the screen bloody and slick, he pressed it to his ear, the operators voice growing panicked as Becky failed to answer.

"Sorry about that," the boyfriend stated, his voice remarkably calm under the circumstances. "Officer Bradley Jones, off-duty. Route 59 outside Pittsburgh. There's been a crash, the driver's in pretty bad shape, I think a tree branch skewered his chest, my girlfriends holding a t-shirt to him to staunch the bleeding. There's also a baby in the backseat, about the age of one, he's fine. Not a scratch on him."

"Thank you, Officer Jones," the operator said, relieved. "You're a credit to your profession. An EMT is ten minutes out of your location, please stand on the curb so they can see your location."

"Understood," Bradley agreed. "Tell them to hurry, I don't know how long the drivers gonna last."

"Understood, Officer Jones," came the reply. The crackle of a radio connection was audible in the background. "The EMT is seven minutes out. Please stay on the line so that we know your situation."

"Rodger that," Bradley said. He looked at Becky who was softly talking to the man on the bonnet, her blue eyes, like the sky on a clear day, shone with warmth. Bradley smiled at his girlfriend, she was a pre-school teacher, she wasn't built for situations like these. She thrived on the smiles and kids of little kids, not on blood, gore and the thrill of the hunt like he did. The man was staring at her in utter awe, his mouth making little gasping sounds as he drew in swift sharp breaths and Bradley knew that the man would be just fine.

It was at that moment that he smelt the spilt oil and felt the increase of pressure in the air. Knowing precisely what was about to happen, Bradley shoved Becky at the door closest to the kid in the back seat while he swung the broken body of the driver into his arms and staggered up the slope. Dumping the man on the side of the road, his screams of pain echoing loudly behind him, Bradley returned to his girlfriends side, pulling out a butterfly-knife from his pocket, he slashed through the seatbelt anchoring the kids carseat to the car. Becky reached around him, pulling the boy and the carseat from the wreckage and together they ran up the slope.

'Just in time too,' Bradley thought, sitting on the side of the road gasping, staring at the conflagration below him. 'Bloody hell,' he sighed, flopping backwards and staring up at the cloudless sky, the rising sun turning it into a fiery inferno of red, golds and pinks. Beside him, Becky cut the baby free of the carseat with his butterfly-knife, and was now cradling the boy to her chest, trying to soothe his hiccoughing cries.

Just as the bottom-edge of the sun touched the horizon, its golden rays lighting up the pure-blue sky, the Ambulance careened around the bend, its roof flashing red and blue as it drew to a screeching stop at their side. Two men dressed in blue flung themselves from the van, one dashing to the back and hauling the heavy doors open. The other landed at the still-alive man's side. Taking blood pressure, heat beats per minute, temperature. Both paramedics looked shock that the man was still kicking, his hazy green eyes blinking slowly as he refused to give in, is hands clenching, as if he wanted to sit upright.

Ten minutes later the paramedics had bundled all three adults and the baby into the van; Bradley upfront with the driver, while the other paramedic treated Becky for shock and the driver for, God knows how many, cuts, bruises, scrapes, broken bones and the gaping wound in his chest. Bradley listened to the paramedic introduce himself as Dave, his voice soothing and quiet, while he tried to interview the driver. The only thing the man would say, however, was 'James', which he'd managed to convey was not _his_ name, but his sons.

A harrowing, thirty minute long ride later, the paramedic driving breaking all kinds of rules; not the least of which, Bradley thought must have been the sound barrier, because they were soon pulling into the emergency bay in Pittsburgh Hospital, the EMT's jumping out the moment the van ceased moving, and hauling the driver inside. The wheels of the bed squealing as they slammed through the doors, Bradley and Becky hard on the paramedics heels, baby James in their arms.

"We need a Doctor!" Dave, the interviewing paramedic, screamed, helping Kyle, the driving paramedic hoist the driver onto a bed. The mans head flopped from side to side and he took a shaky breath.

A nurse sprinted over, her face white as she took in the damage to the mans body, "how is he still aide?" She asked rhetorically, before business took over. "I need saline and a transfusion over here! Make it a universal!" The mans eyes rolled back, his body arching as he went into shock, the events of the night clearly too much for him, now he knew he was safe. "Shit!" The nurse cursed, "pin him down!"

The paramedics did so, watching as a saline drip and blood transfusion were quickly attached to the mans arm while an oxygen mask was snapped over his mouth. The nurse bundled blankets over his body and then the trio of medical staff sprinted off, weaving through the busy emergency room and directly into a surgery room. Outside, Bradley wrapped his arms around Becky, baby James curled up in there arms and both adults prayed that the man would be okay.

Five hours later, Bradley was pacing the waiting room, having already given his statements to the police, he was now trying to soothe a cranky James back to sleep. The pocket of his hospital shirt weighed down with a bottle of milk that James had flat out refuse, his screams echoing loudly through the pristine white walls of the hospital. Curled up on a seat, Becky looked far younger than her twenty-six years, her cheeks tear streaked and white, a brilliant orange shock blanket wrapped around her, her socked feet pulled up beneath her body.

A scuff of a leather shoe on linoleum flooring had Bradley turning around and meeting the weary gaze of the emergency doctor. He was smiling, his dark hair messy and the front of his surgical gown blood-covered. But he was smiling.

Bradley couldn't help it, he let out a relieved laugh, the sound waking Becky and shocking James from his half-hearted wails. "He's okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Jones," the doctor agreed, "we believe that Mr. Doe will be just fine."

"Thank God," Becky breathed, wiping thin hands over her face. "Thank. God."

"You hear that, Jamie?" Bradley grinned, bouncing James in his arms. "Your Daddy's gonna be just fine!" James whimpered softly, wrinkling his nose, but otherwise settled in the strange mans arms. Bradley sighed in relief, this was excellent news. "So what now, doc?"

The doctor shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "Now we wait for him to wake up," he replied. "There's still a chance that he won't be fully okay, but he's out of the woods already. Which is, quite frankly, utterly remarkable." The doctor ran a slightly powdery hand through his hair, making it stick up like a cockatoos crest. "He's in room 306, if you want to wait there."

Becky stood, pulling the orange blanket around her tightly, stepping into her shoes. "I think we'd like that very much," she smiled at the doctor. "Thank you."

The doctor smiled lightly, "it was my pleasure;" and it was. He hated it when his patients died on the table. It always felt as though he'd failed them, but this man. God, but he was so stubborn. Refusing to let go, to die. They'd given him morphine and anaesthetic and still had to up the dose when the man had tried to come around in the middle of surgery, two hours ago. Either he was a lot heavier than he appeared, or he had an amazing metabolism. Given his skinniness, the doctor was inclined to believe the later. Watching the police officer and his girlfriend hasten down the hallways to the mystery mans room, the doctor wondered just what it was about the man that made him so interesting and… beloved of those who met him.

Inside Room 306, a man lay on a bed with white sheets and a light blue waffle blanket. Hair, no longer slick with blood, was messy and dark. His skin, pale and covered in a patchwork of bruises, was nearly translucent from a lack of blood. His left arm was tilted upright, a shiny silver needle taped to his forearm, pumping saline, morphine and blood into his blood stream. Eyes, shut for now, showed distinct signs of movement as a pair of adults carrying a baby entered the room. At the sight of his Daddy, the baby gave a cooing cry, his arms held out to the motionless form and the mans eyes shot open. Becky let out a soft gasp, surprise bleeding through her body. Those eyes, they were such a brilliant green. Like emeralds and ever-green trees, peridots and the shining sea. They were beautiful.

"James," the man rasped hoarsely, struggling to reach his son in desperation. "Jamie." Becky dashed to his side, plucking James from her husbands arms even as Bradley darted to the mans side and aided the man in sitting up. The man held his son close to his bruised and battered body, tears escaping the corners of his eyes, his breath coming short and swift as he fought a loosing battle with his tears. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you!"

Bradley smiled, tears leaking from his eyes at the sight of the father reunited with his son. "It was our pleasure," he reassured the man. "We would've done the same for anyone."

The man smiled tightly, "still, you saved our lives. I cannot thank you enough."

Becky reached out, smoothing the mans messy fringe from his forehead, "your thanks aren't necessary." She smiled beatifically.

The man stilled, wincing at the feeling of her thin hands on his heated skin. It was fairly painful. He licked his lips, pulling James closer to him. The tightness in his let elbow alerting him to the fact that he was hooked up to an IV, again, and that he was clearly in some hospital. He had to leave. Meeting the eyes of the couple who flanked his bed, their eyes practically worshipful of him, he knew he needed to leave. Damn his heritage.

"I'm really very sorry for this," he apologised. "But do you know what happened to my stuff?"

Bradley hastened to agree, his eyes devoted and smiling. "It's in the basement."

"Can you get it for me, Bradley?" The man asked, smiling at him. "Please?"

"Of course," Bradley agreed, not even pausing to wonder how the man knew his name. Nor why he was developing a headache behind his eyes, as though someone had pressed on them firmly. "I'll be right back."

The man reached over to his IV, tugging it free of his skin, ignoring Becky's fluttering protests in favour of pressing his lips to his sons head. "I didn't need them, not really," he explained to Becky who immediately quieted at the explanation. "Why don't you go have a nap on this bed, Becky. You look tired." The man said as he climbed out from beneath his blankets.

Becky nodded her auburn head, climbing into the bed and pulling the blankets up to her chin ad swiftly falling into Morpheus' arms. The man stared at her sleeping form for but a moment before busying himself with checking his son over. Ensuring his wholeness. When Bradley skidded back into the room, a bag of bloody clothing in his arms, the man was in the middle of the room, naked as the day he was born.

Unconcerned by his girlfriend sleeping on the bed where the badly hurt man had been or by the mans nudity, Bradley offered the clothing up with a brilliant smile. "I got them for you."

The man smiled, "thank you, Bradley, that was very helpful of you." Bradley puffed up, pleased with himself. "Why don't you join Becky for a nap, you must be tired."

Bradley blinked heavily, weariness sweeping over him. "Yeah, I kinda am, actually. Thank you."

The man smiled darkly, watching as Bradley joined his girlfriend on the bed and fall asleep swiftly and easily. He reached into the bag, removing the black jeans and t-shirt inside and running his hands over them, removing the dried blood and rents from the fabric. Tugging them on, he then removed the black leather jacket with a relieved sigh alongside a pair of metal dog-tags. Turning to his son who was seated on the chair, the man picked the baby up, cradling him close.

"C'mon, Jamie," he murmured, scanning the room carefully. Raising a hand, he whispered "_evanesco_" quietly, erasing every trace of his presence before exiting the room.

The man jogged from the hospital, ignoring the sharp, jabbing pains that ran through him. Pain was an old friend to him, just as death was. Evading the bright street lights, the man dashed into the Hospital parking lot, searching for a car with a baby seat. Eventually he found one. A silver jeep with rust spots and dirty, brown leather seats. He opened it with a wave of his hand, buckling James in with a short smile. Slamming the door shut, he then climbed into the drivers seat and reached beneath the dashboard and ripped the wires out. If you had the know how, hot-wiring a car was ridiculously easy.

He pulled out of the city of Pittsburgh just as the day rolled into early afternoon, the hot sun high above his head as he roared passed the crash sight without care of the speed limit. They had miles to go until they reached New York and the safe place that his friend had told him about. A safe place for people like him. A safe place for his son to grow up, without care or worry for his life. He gritted his teeth as yet another lance of pain spiked through his chest. Now, if he could get there without dying again, that would be awesome.

**xXx**

Another day, another dingy motel filled to the brim with whores, hookers and seedy men out to get laid. Hiding in his room with James, the man huddled beneath his blankets, bleeding slightly from yet another stab wound while his old wounds from Pennsylvania throbbed with every beat of his heart. Opposite him, the door hung on broken hinges, two men standing outside, their dark eyes gleaming with greed, fear, desire and discomfort.

"C'mon Frankie, let's get him," one of them grunted gruffly, ignoring his partners pained expression as he pressed a rag to his belly that had a long, shallow cut across it. A souvenir of the man's swift reflexes.

"No, Johnny, I'm not gonna do nothin' to him, he and his boy should be left alone." Frankie denied, remembering the baby's howls as his Daddy was stabbed and the man's grunt of desperation as Frankie was slashed up with a butterfly-knife. "Leave him be, Johnny," Frankie warned.

"No," Johnny retorted, stumbling into the room, a gun held loosely in his hand. "I'm gonna gut him like the pig he is."

"Don't hurt the babbee," Frankie pleaded, desperately.

"What do you care about any babbee for, Frankie?" Johnny questioned, turning to his friend. Behind him, the man divested himself of the ratty blankets and, holding his boy close, legged it out of the nearest window onto a fire escape. Frankie did see, however, and he smiled in happiness as he watched the man escape, his baby boy held tightly in his arms.

"They don't deserve no harm, Johnny," Frankie replied firmly. "So just leave 'em be, okay?"

Johnny sneered in disgust but by the time he turned around, the man and the baby were long gone.

Five flights below, the man was hot-wiring a car, his son balanced between his legs as he coaxed sparks and the sputtering engine to ignite. The thrum of the ancient pick-up was soothing to the nervous man's ears, and with slow, careful movements, the man pulled out and floored the car down the highway. It would take him nearly five hours to reach his destination and he would be lucky to reach it unharmed.

four hours down the line, the man was cursing in several different languages as he swerved sideways, avoiding the _thing_ that hunted him. The great curved beak and shining eyes nerve-wracking-ly close for comfort. He dodged once more, jostling the child in his lap as the bird-like creature's talons snatched at the place where they had been. The next time they weren't so lucky, and the crappy pick-up dangled like a worm on a fish hook as the bird-thing peered into the window, a cruel smirk on its beak.

Screaming, he fell from the smashed window, cradling James to him tightly, and landing with a hollow thud on the ground. Unable to have any luxurious time groaning and moaning on the time, he grunted and staggered upright. Thanking God that he had some measure of abilities behind him, even when he was utterly exhausted and nearly run dry, the man ran into the forest. His was, at most, an hour out of his destination and really, how hard could it be to get there by foot?

Not twenty minutes later, the man was holed up in an old fox den, cursing that optimistic thought with every bone in his body. Above him, the screams of the bird-like creature were slowly fading as it swung overhead, searching for him. Breathing heavily, barely rested but willing to take a chance, the man crawled out of the den, covered in mud, dirt and blood, and crept from tree to tree, from bush to bush. For close to an hour he held a hand over his sons' mouth, muffling the hiccoughing cries as he followed his gut through the trees and searched for the tall tree that marked the boundary.

He felt like sobbing with relief when he finally found it only to freeze in horror at the sight of the distance between him and safety and the sight of the freaky bird-creature fling overhead. It's piercing cries oddly triumphant. Beside the tree was a tall arch, the top carved with Greek symbols that seemed to shimmer and re-arrange in the light before his very eyes. The man gritted his teeth, determination welling in him, and he sprinted forwards. Above him, the bird-creature dove on the man, its talons outstretched and deadly sharp. Not a metre from the boundary, he flung himself forwards, throwing his son over the line even as the birds talons and beak pierced his flesh.

The man screamed, an unearthly sound, as he squirmed in pain, trying to turn over and free himself from the unforgiving sadism of the monster behind him. The cracks and snaps of his bones echoed horribly and the sound of feet heralded the cavalry. The man lifted his head and watched as a horde of teenagers skidded to a stop, covered in bronze armour and wielding swords, bows and daggers, they stared at the giant bird that was trying to disembowel a struggling man, a child at the foot of the boundary line, just within safety. The man screamed again, arching backwards, the sounds disturbing the baby, who tried to return to his father. The sight of which blew the man's eyes wide with horror and fear.

"No!" He screamed, the bird leaving him be for the moment, interested in the baby in front of him. "NOT MY SON!" He roared, drawing the very last of his energy to him, and releasing it in a great pulse of hot heated light. Like a great arch of white light, the energy slammed into the bird-like creature and overloading the monsters system. The bird-creature let out a shriek of pain, melting beneath the onslaught of a fathers love. Staggering upright and ignoring the smouldering remains of the creature that had attacked him, and the grievous wounds that marred his body, the man collapsed at his sons side, patting the baby's body, searching for any harm done to the boy.

"You're okay," he breathed, relieved beyond measure. "You're okay." Gentle footsteps sounded behind the man and he swung around unsteadily to meet the horrified gaze of his friend, pale eyes roving his body in clear worry.

"Harry," the man breathed, staring at the other man and his son. "What happened?"

"Giant birdy-thing happened," Harry relied, his voice slurring. "I made it Than, I made it."

'Than' stared at his friend, sorrowed. "You did indeed, my friend." 'Than' knelt at Harry's side, running his pale hands over the ruined torso of his friend. "I'm so sorry," 'Than' whispered.

"Where were you?" Harry asked, his eyes darkening slowly. "You promised me, Than. You promised you'd find us."

"I was delayed," 'Than' replied, violet eyes weeping tears of sympathetic pain. "Oh my friend, what have they done to you?"

"Don' ma'er now," Harry slurred. "Ah'm safe na'ow."

'Than' scooped the other man into his arms, smiling tightly at the sight of Harry's own arms gripping his son to his ruined body. "You are, I swear to you, you're safe now. She can't get you here. Not now, not ever."

Stepping passed the gathering of stunned heroes, 'Than' stepped over the boundary line carrying his precious burden. Entering the Camp Half-Blood, 'Than' made directly for the 'Big House', his pale skin pallid even in the bright sunlight of mid-summer. The burden of being death was to never be touched by the Sun or His sister, the Moon. Inside the Big House stood a tall man with dark curly hair, his eyes wine-red and his face blotchy from heavy drinking. Beside the curly haired man was a centaur, his eyes dark and solemn and his face grave as he met the stern gaze of 'Than'. Both men, however, on sighting 'Than' whitened in shock and fear, both stepping backwards unconsciously. For despite both being immortal, that did not mean they did not fear Death, and 'Than' had quite the reputation behind him.

Smirking darkly, 'Than' set his burden on the nearest bed, wrestling James from his unconscious fathers grip. "Heal him, cousins, or know my wrath."

"Th-Thanatos?" Dionysus asked, his voice stunned. "I haven't seen you in a millennia!"

Thanatos rolled his eyes, more interested in his young Master and his Master's son. "Yes, yes, Di," Thanatos waved off. "Lovely to see you too. Now, heal my chosen or suffer the consequences."

Dionysus stammered a quick agreement, hastening over to the medicine cupboard that housed the nectar. "Er…" Dionysus stammered, "this is okay for him to have, yes?"

Thanatos rolled his eyes, twitching his fingers in an effort to not strangle the God of Wine and Madness. There was a good reason that he avoided all the other Gods bar Hades and his brother, Charon. They all drove him insane with annoyance and rage. "Heal him!" Thanatos ordered, the shadows lengthening and the sky darkening.

"Right!" Dionysus agreed hastily, pouring an inadvisable amount of nectar down Thanatos' chosen's throat. "Oops…"

"Moron!" Thanatos groaned, rubbing his eyes. He turned to the baby in his arms and heaved a long-suffering sigh. "You're so lucky that your Daddy is durable, baby boy, because otherwise Uncle Dionysus would be inside out and hanging on Uncle Hades' rack."

Dionysus gulped nervously, backing out of the room, leaving Thanatos to stand over the prone body of his Master. Chiron the Centaur having already long since fled the room, immortal or not, no one got between Death and whoever he was snarling at this time. On the bed, Harry tossed and turned, his face a rictus of pain as the nectar of the Gods raced through his system, re-writing all the damage forced on him by his wife, her family and the many other people he had long since left behind.

Days passed and still Thanatos remained, hovering over Harry's prone form with deep worry. James never leaving his arms as the baby slept and played comfortably within Death's embrace. Finally, a flicker of movement happened. A fluttering of eyelids, the slight opening of a mouth and Thanatos slumped in relief. Harry was fine. About seven inches taller and with a severe five o'clock shadow. But fine nonetheless.

Thanatos stepped from the Big House's shadow, James clinging to his collar and squinting in the bright light of the sun, and made his way over to the Dining Pavilion. Harry would be furious if he found out that Thanatos had been neglecting his son and feeding him via magical transfusions. Silence reigned when Thanatos entered, many eyes widening at the sight of the baby that babbled in his arms and pointed at the room around them, focusing in particular on the fire in the middle.

"Yes, yes, your bizarre fascination with fire is adorable," Thanatos grumbled, moving the child onto his hip while removing a small bottle and nipple from his robes. It took some juggling, but Thanatos was able to fill the bottle with milk without making too much of a mess, to James' clear happiness. "Oh shush, you; here, have a drink, you're driving me to distraction. Hades' knows how your Daddy puts up with a squirming bundle of milk breath like yourself."

Chiron smirked at the sight of the God of Death gently coaxing a human child into drinking a bottle of milk, the baby's sky blue eyes wide with familial happiness. Chiron almost expected Thanatos to force the child or to yell as he did with the rest of the pantheon, yet he didn't. Remaining calm, collected and above all, strangely loving with the child.

"Brat," Thanatos said fondly, stepping from the Dining Pavilion once more, ignoring the weirded out looks of the half-bloods behind him. James sniffed pathetically as he peered up at Thanatos with watery eyes and Thanatos felt a sliver of panic shoot trough him. "Oh, no you don't!" He hissed. "You are not crying or wailing or snotting all over me! It's undignified!"

James, however, let out a hiccoughing grumble and dissolved into wailing tears. The sound was loud and painful to the usually silent God of Death, who struggled to not panic or to shut the kid up by smiting it. Bouncing the baby uncomfortably, Thanatos forgot about everything around him as he put in every effort to calm the squalling baby. It was because of this distraction that Thanatos failed to see the giant golden lion that was stalking him and the baby. It was also because of this that Harry shot upright in bed, the frightened screams of his son ringing in his ears.

"_JAMES_!"

Sprinting from the Bog House, Harry ignored his woozy head and wobbly knees and flung himself on top of the giant nemean lion that was attacking his best, and only, friend and his son. Wrapping long legs around the beasts waist, Harry threaded his fingers into the great, shaggy mane and with a great yell, sent a thousand volts of pure electrical energy through the lions body. The lion screamed in pure pain, its maw gaping wide and its fur standing on end. With a thud, the body fell to the ground, sending Harry tumbling free and onto his back.

Wheezing, Harry stood upright, ignoring the crowd of campers, the gaping God of Wine and Madness, the stunned Centaur all staring at him, and staggered over to his son and Thanatos. Enveloping the pair in a warm hug, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "You're okay, thank the Gods, you're okay."

Behind them the God, Centaur and heroes gaped and stared. Shocked beyond measure at Death's willingness to be touched and cared for. A child in his arms and a humans forehead resting against his, their eyes closed and revelling in one anthers closeness. Thus, Chiron the Centaur concluded, he really shouldn't have been surprised by Hades' sudden presence. Although the King of the Underworld's reaction to the trio was utterly bizarre. Even Nico DiAngelo had been surprised at his father's glad cry and hurried embrace of the man and his boy.

Beside Nico, Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace stared with equal astonishment at Hades' arrival and reaction, their meetings with their Uncle hardly proving the God to have a heart, let alone a caring bone in his body. The crash of waves on the shore heralded the arrival of Poseidon, the the roar of thunder in a clear sky heralded that of Zeus. Both Gods staring at their brothers embrace of the human with utter confusion. When the King of the Underworld released the man and Harry let the very uncomfortable Thanatos go, Zeus' mouth dropped open in utter shock as he gasped out a single word.

"Harry?"

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note<span>

Okay, so I'm not a massive fan of these books, but I felt that I kind of had to contribute this. Mainly because I felt that someone out there might appreciate it. That said, if there are any glaring mistakes, please, please correct me and I'll endeavour to change it. Equally, I'm Australian, thus, for the Americans out there, I spell things differently to you, please don't ask me to change that (which others have before, it won't end well for either of us). I adore reviews, but if all you're going to say is "I approve/I adore/love/Please update soon" don't. If you have something legitimate to point out, do so; if you have changes to make, tell me; if you want to wax poetic about my awesomeness, thanks, I appreciate it, but it's not necessary (mainly because I'm fairly sure I was Narcissus in a past life).

So my dear readers, read, review, love; if its a well thought out review, I'll likely reply to you. I do enjoy 'talking shop' with people. So, my dear neighbours, have at it, there's a little box below with your name on it.

Regards, Sar'Kalu

* * *

><p><span>Greek Translations:<span>

Gios ti̱s Thýellas kai tou Ouranoú: Son of Storm and Sky

'Ptí̱si̱s í̱ Páli̱s': Fight or Flight


	2. Part Two: Gios tou Día

Part Two

Gios tou Día

The Big House was crowded, Percy and Thalia having plastered themselves to their little seen fathers, their eyes filled with familial love and warmth as they exchanged brief words of comfort and adoration with their parents. Far too soon for both teenagers, they were quietly ushered from the building, Hades having sent his son away with a harsh glare, knowing that Nico would undoubtably visit him in the Underworld later that evening. His uncharacteristic treatment of Harry having raised not only a few eyebrows but had inspired a kind of worry in his son, who questioned his suddenly demonstrative nature.

Opposite the Big Three was Harry, his hands cradling his son close to his chest as he made sparks of light dance along his fingertips for his sons wide eyed smiles. Behind Harry, Thanatos rested gentle hands on his Master's shoulders, lending comfort and strength to the young wizard. Beside Death stood the violet eyed Hecate, her arrival having stunned her few children into cleaning their dump of a cabin. Hecate, however, hardly the kindest of mothers, simply rolled her eyes and followed after her beloved grandson, eyeing his messy black hair with fond reminiscence. James' hair had been just as untidy and unmanageable.

Zeus was the first to speak, his eyes becoming red-rimmed as he tried to restrain his natural reaction of hugging his long-lost son tightly to his chest and never letting him go. That the boy was small and thin only made the reaction that much harder to stifle, his large, strong hands aching with the need to touch his boy, make sure that he was okay. That he hadn't disintegrated like that _fucking_ wizard had told him. Had _lied_ to him about.

"Harry," Zeus whispered brokenly, remembering the boys green eyes. His squeals of happiness as a child. His cheerful abilities at manipulating light and wind. His incredible abilities at manipulating magic, even at an early age. Hardly unexpected, after all, he was the grandson of Hecate, the Goddess of Witchcraft and Magic, among other things. "Harry, I thought you'd _died_!"

Harry stiffened, his body showing how very much he loathed the man in front of him, God or no. Beside Zeus, Hades' watched his great-grandson carefully. He normally could care less for his children's descendants, but the Blacks had ever been his favoured and beloved. That one of their own had suffered as Harry had, well, sufficed to say that the Fields of Punishment was not where the Dursley's, Dumbledore or various Weasley's had ended up. No, where they were was much, _much_ worse.

"Which time?" Harry asked sardonically. "I have a tendency to be pulled out of hell pretty regularly."

Zeus blinked rapidly, confusion apparent on his features. "What?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "look, I get it. I'm your son. Granddad Hades already told me, but I have no idea why you care? I mean, you never once showed up, no matter how much I screamed for help."

"You screamed?" Zeus whispered, the shocks of the day just piling on up. "Granddad Hades?" He turned to his older brother, "you knew Harry was alive? You knew MY SON WAS ALIVE?!" Zeus roared, anguish easily heard within his strident tones. "_YOU KNEW HARRY WAS ALIVE AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME_?!"

Hades held up his hands, an oily smile on his lips, "I knew, brother dearest, but when I tried to tell you… Why, its like you didn't want to see me at all." Hades sneered, "your arrogance knows no bounds, Brother, you banished me from Olympus and said I was not to return but for the utmost urgency. Fancy that news of your son doesn't account for such?"

Zeus stared at his brother, remembering the King of the Underworlds presence in Olympus not two years ago, how he'd reacted by throwing a bolt at his elder brother, sending the other God falling from Olympus' side. Now, staring at his suspicious son and his smirking elder brother, Zeus realised just how far he'd fallen. Just how mistrusting he'd become. 'With reason,' he admitted to himself, 'but still, it had lost him his son'.

Hanging his head, the King of the Gods breathed out and in, calming himself, trying to think rationally. Meeting his sons' green gaze, the same eyes that had been his mothers, Zeus realised just how fucked up everything was. "I'm sorry," he whispered, defeat in every line of his face. "I'm so, _so_ sorry, Harry."

Hades and Poseidon felt their mouths drop open in shock. Their brother had just _apologised_. Without prompting by Hestia. The only Goddess who held their brothers complete love and loyalty. And now, here was Zeus, kneeling by his son's side, blue eyes swimming with self-hate and guilt. And Harry -Harry was staring at his father in shock and awe, very few people having ever apologised to him before and actually mean it. Never would he have imagined that his father, well, one of his fathers apologise to him. Hades had been sarcastically sure that his brother had known about Harry all along. Had not cared about his sons' plight.

But now, Harry had the feeling that Zeus had been completely ignorant. Could now see the truth in his sons eyes and now felt guilt and sorrow. Sighing, Harry dropped his gaze to his sons head, the baby peering up at his father and smiling widely, reassuringly at the man who kept him safe and loved. Harry pressed his lips to the boys forehead and sighed once more. He turned his green gaze on his father and pressed his lips together. "Stand, Zeus," Harry said softly. "You are a God, you should not kneel to me."

Hades scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If he should be kneeling to anyone, it should be to you, Harry. He owes you _everything_."

"Maybe so," Harry allowed, running a hand down his sons side and leaning into Thanatos' touch. "But I do not blame him for leaving. Zeus is well known for being fickle at best, you cannot teach an old dog new tricks, Grandfather, you taught me that."

"No, you just drag them down to the pit and make them scream for eternity," Thanatos chipped in dryly, remembering Hades' fury at his Grandsons condition two years ago. How he had raged for months and been so over protective of Harry that even Persephone had avoided him, her eyes wide with surprise at her husbands righteous rage. Of course, that had been before Persephone had heard the whole story and fallen in love with Harry too. Thanatos often wondered if Harry had any of Aphrodite's blood in him, it was almost too easy to love the young man.

Zeus stared between his brother, his brothers lackey and his son, the child in his sons lap throwing him for a loop a bit, while Poseidon narrowed his eyes in through, having caught sight of a curving scar beneath the neckline of Harry's high collared shirt. A shirt that Hades had made for him without asking, his black eyes burning with protective fury. Realisation flooded him and meeting his elder brothers gaze, Poseidon silently asked Hades if he was right. It took a while, but Hades finally inclined his head in assent, and the God of Seas, Storms and Earthquakes flared his nostrils in silent rage. That one of their own be treated so was inexcusable. Outside the sea crashed on the shore in ever increasing wave size, threatening to swamp the island and sink the world.

"Please tell me they burn in Tartarus," Poseidon asked Hades, his fists clenching. He could not pretend to love any of his brothers children, yet the mere idea of one of their god spawn having been treated like a whipped dog, mistreated and hurting, was enough to make him want to disembowel the perpetrators over and over again.

"No," Hades answered smugly, his eyes shining with glee.

"What do you mean, no?" Poseidon demanded, anger coiling like a living being in his gut.

Hades smirked, "I did worse." Poseidon raised an eyebrow at his brother, his rage subsiding as curiosity overtook him. "I sent them to hell."

"Pardon?" The Sea God questioned, confusion evident.

"He means the Biblical Hell," Harry answered in clear amusement, staring at Hades with slight awe, as if he couldn't quite believe that Hades had gone so far for him. "He called in some favours and now, everyone who harmed me is under Abaddon, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Lilith and Samael's hands. In a place where ever year up here equates to twelve down there. Eternal torment doesn't begin to even cover it."

Poseidon blinked in surprise, "bit of overkill there, don't you think, Brother?"

Hades sniffed haughtily, "of course not."

"Does someone want to explain?" Zeus asked with quiet menace, still at the feet of his son and staring between his brothers. Somehow, he had the feeling that he wouldn't appreciate the answer.

Hecate rolled her eyes, sashaying forwards, "what they are talking of, dear King, would be the abuse your son suffered at the hands of his captors. Stolen from his family at the hands of his future Headmaster, handed over to his relatives where he endured seventeen years of utter hell." Hecate hissed, her violet eyes blazing her hatred and disgust of the people who dared harm her Grandson. "Then locked into a loveless and abusive marriage. Raped magically, physically and emotionally. Forced to impregnate a red-haired bitch with the sweet child on his lap, a bitch we are yet to find still." Hecate was breathing heavily, her aura heavy with magic as she rested a claw-like hand on her beloved Grandchild's shoulder, covering Thanatos' own tightly. "Left for dead and forced to escape on his own because we could not find him. Hidden by magic so black that even Hades would shudder to name it."

"Oh I'll name it, alright," Hades hissed, his dark eyes bleeding fire. "After I find that little cunt and drag her backwards over shattered glass drenched in water from the Styx to Tartarus itself!"

Zeus listened to this with growing rage, at Hades' hissed avowal, however, he stood straight and tall, his blue eyes blazing. Finally, the reactions of his brothers, sister and the primordial made sense. He dropped his icy gaze to his sons still innocent green eyes and knew the love that only a father could. The protection of a father riled up beyond compare. His son had been used and abused beyond measure. He had failed him and that more than anything stung him. Burned him like a brand.

Determinedly, Zeus held out a hand above his sons head, there was only one way to help his son now. He could see the tie that bound Harry to the primordial God of Death, knew that his son was immortal. Knew that he would have his son around millennia to come. That his grandson, at this action, would become more than a legacy. Would become a demigod in his own right.

Hades watched in stunned amazement at his brother not only claimed Harry as his own son, the blazing lightning bolt shining above his head, but also laid a deep power within the young mans psyche, changing him permanently, removing the last traces of his humanity. Stepping forwards, Hades laid his own hand over his brothers, lending his colder, harsher power to Zeus' own while Poseidon watched and waited. Then, as both brothers made to step back, Poseidon stepped forwards and poured his own in, smirking mischievously at his stunned siblings. He wasn't one for family, not after the various wars that had resulted in Olympus becoming more and more hostile and confusing; but this, -this boy with those innocent green eyes and messy dark hair, this was reason enough for him to lend his power to his brothers. To help his nephew become who he would never have been without the trials and the strife in his life. To create a godling child who would one day rise up and ascend as Dionysus had once so very long ago.

"You will join us on Olympus upon your ascension, Little One," Zeus rumbled, pride shining in his eyes. "It is the least I can do to make it up to you."

Harry, who's eyes had closed as his fathers', uncles' and grandfathers' power had raced through him, let out a long sigh, a smile on his lips. "That was amazing," he breathed, opening his eyes to stare up at his Father and Uncles. "It was like coming home." The smile widened in delight. "I've never had a home before."

'And wasn't that just the saddest thing?' Poseidon suddenly realised. Even trapped in his father stomach, he'd had the help and support of his brother, Hades. Known that someone, somewhere loved him. Had never doubted that until Zeus had cut them free and led the charge against the Titans and become the leader of Olympus. "Well," Poseidon said softly, feeling remarkably emotional as he looked into Harry's shining eyes. "You're home now."

"Oh dear Hades," Thanatos groaned, rolling his eyes. "Save me from the emotional baggage and outpouring, _please_."

Hades snickered, amused at his subordinates snarky exterior. "You say that like you haven't been watching over Harry for the past week nonstop."

Harry grinned up at his beloved friend, "oh Than, you _do_ care!"

Thanatos released Harry shoulder and summoned his scythe, a new affectation, certainly, but one that never failed to make him look menacing. "Cease and desist," he ordered his Master. "It's unbecoming of you."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes, "sure, whatever."

Thanatos rolled his eyes once more and half stepped into a shadow. "You'll be okay?" He asked, concern shining in his pale eyes.

"I'll be fine, Than," Harry reassured him. "James will be too."

Thanatos relaxed and then stepped fully into the shadow, disappearing entirely. Hades hummed slightly, knowing that it was time for him to leave as well, pressing a fond hand to his grandsons shoulder, the King of the Underworld disappeared in a dispelling of black smoke, leaving Harry to smile slightly as it dissipated in wispy caresses around him.

"I should leave too," Hecate announced, staring into her grandsons eyes. "I love you, wizardling, you take care of yourself -you and my great-grandson!"

"Yes, Grandmother," Harry replied dutifully, smiling beatifically up at her. When Hecate disappeared with a loud crack, the baby in Harry's lap let out a startled cry and peered around him curiously. "It's okay Jamie, you're okay," Harry smiled, rubbing his sons back gently.

"You're quite good with him," Poseidon noted, preparing to leave himself.

"He's the only mortal family I have and it took me three months of planning to rescue him from his abusive mother." Harry replied softly. "I failed him badly, no father wants to see their child scarred before their time, anymore than they wish to bury them." Harry pulled the shirt up James' body, revealing little silvery scars all over James' otherwise smooth back. Harry met Poseidon's horrified eyes, "so, you must understand, my son is my life. I can never have another, not even Grandfather could heal me."

Poseidon closed his eyes in sorrow, "such sadness, nephew, yet such strength." The Sea God smiled gently, admiringly. "You are a credit to us all, son." Harry blinked in surprise as a trident shone above his and James' heads, marvelling at the embossed shield behind it. "My children and myself will protect you, Harry. With our lives if need be." Poseidon said decisively.

Zeus stared at his brother, surprise colouring his features. "Thank you, Sei."

Poseidon blinked rapidly, having not heard that name since he'd first been named King of the Sea. Zeus had ever been a jealous God, hoarding power like Hades hoarded his gold and jewels. "You're welcome, Ze." Poseidon replied slowly, leaving with a crash of waves and the sour scent of brackish water.

Leaving Harry in his hard wooden chair to stare around the crowded office and Zeus to watch his grandson watch him. Harry chuckled at his son, knowing that the nearly two year old was a curious creature. Turning to his newly acknowledged father, he smiled cautiously, "would you like to hold him?"

Zeus startled, having been engaged in a staring contest with James and flushed darkly. Very few of his sons had ever survived to adulthood, the life of a demigod being tumultuous and dangerous at the best of times. So he was staring at his first mortal grandchild and falling quickly in love with the boy. "Yes," he concluded, smiling brilliantly at the thought.

Harry held out his son, watching as Zeus gingerly took the child from him, daring into the sky blue eyes that were a legacy of one of his family members over the years. Not one of the Weasley's had the same sky blue of a hot summer sky, clear and uninterrupted by clouds or haze. Looking into his fathers eyes, however, Harry smiled in realisation. For Zeus, smiling broadly at his grandson, bouncing the child in his arms, had the self-same blue in his eyes. Eyes that twinkled and shone with delight as James tried to tug on his thick, bushy beard and mouth his long nose.

"Do you want to know his name?" Harry asked his father suddenly, anxiously, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

Zeus, poking and tickling his grandsons belly, happy with its round smoothness and the baby's chubby cheeks. No matter what had happened, Harry had clearly expended everything to take care of his baby boy. He looked at his son, a wide smile on his face, and shrugged lightly, "I know your people have a funny thing about names, so only tell me if you want."

Harry relaxed, reassured by his fathers reaction, "I'd like to tell you."

"Then I'd like to hear it," Zeus grinned, trying to remove James' sticky fingers from his curly black hair.

"James Díasogios Potter," Harry said, his words almost tripping over one another as he spoke.

Zeus raised an eyebrow, "Díasogios?" He thought for a moment, knowing that it was Greek, but word play had never been his strength. He preferred to swing a sword or a lighting bolt around. "Días o gios? Son of Zeus?" Zeus felt warmth bubble in his chest. His son was brilliant. His grandson was named after his fathers, as Harry had been. "You named him for me?"

"I did," Harry nodded, watching his son subside and settle, his blue eyes blinking sleepily. "I named him after two of the most important people in my life, even if I'd never met them before. Grandfather wasn't pleased when he found out, but I liked it."

Zeus couldn't help himself, he knelt, one arm cradling James to his broad chest, the other sneaking 'round Harry's shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank you," Zeus breathed, tucking his sons head between the crook of neck and shoulder. "My son, my beautiful baby boy, returned to me at last." Tears made tracks down Zeus' cheeks, wetting his giant black beard. "If I could go back, I would have saved you, my son. I have failed you so very badly."

Harry, shuddering with the force of his withheld sobs, shook his head. "No…" He panted, trying to steady his choked voice. "I's no' your faul'," Harry mumbled into his fathers neck. "You di'n' know. I's no' your faul'."

Zeus closed his eyes tightly, guilt swamping him, his son, his beautiful baby boy was so very forgiving. He had failed his boy beyond measure, and here was Harry, reassuring him that it wasn't his fault. "I should have known, I should have checked on you earlier!" Zeus replied, his voice harsh with self-recrimination.

Harry leant backwards, his green eyes red rimmed and luminous as he stared at his father, his face set with determination, he held the Sky Gods face with is hands, making it immobile and forcing he Gods to meet his eyes. "Its. Not. Your. Fault." Harry stated with utter conviction. "Say it, Father, for me."

"Its not my fault," Zeus mumbled, not really believing it but doing as his son said.

"With feeling," Harry snapped.

"Its not my fault," Zeus snarled, his guilt moving towards anger as he stared at his son. He hated being ordered around, it was not something he was good at.

"Good," Harry smiled beatifically, pressing a kiss to his fathers cheek.

Zeus rolled his eyes, handing his sleeping grandson over to Harry. "You're exactly like your mother," Zeus grumbled. "She never let James or I wallow in self-pity either."

Harry leant back smugly, "mothers know best."

"You're a father," Zeus pointed out, distinctly uncomfortable at the idea of his son giving up his masculinity.

Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm both, Father. I always will be." Harry shrugged unconcerned, "single parent over here."

Zeus nodded, standing once more. "So I see," Zeus ran a finger down his sons face, preparing to leave.

"You wake your grandson up, Zeus, King of the Gods, and I will not hesitate to hex you," Harry threatened, his eyes fierce.

Zeus froze, remembering another green eyed human who had made a similar threat (and had followed through with it), leaving him unable to sit for three weeks. He'd looked like a right idiot in front of his compatriots, all of whom had been barely able to hide their amusement at the sight. Hera had actually had the gall to look _smug_.

"Right you are, Harry," Zeus agreed, hastily removing himself from the Big House and flashing away in a peal of thunder and lightning. Inside Harry sighed in mild irritation as James jerked awake and started howling. How his Mum had put up with this, Harry didn't know.

**xXx**

Two days after the divine visit the Camp was still putting itself back together. Dionysus had stopped walking around wide eyed and jumpy whenever he looked at Harry or James. Chiron had stopped flinching and was slowly warming to the Master of Death, mainly because he really wanted to know how on Earth Harry had tamed Death. While the Campers simply avoided the tall, dark haired man, even Clarissa avoided him. Though that was more to do with the fact that he stirred a kind of warmth in her, one that sort of reminded her of her Mom, before the tablets, the drinking and the many, many men that she had used to fill up her arching soul.

Harry, for his part, drifted. From space to space. Spending time at the dock when it was free of squealing children; ducking around the buildings into the Strawberry fields to spend time with the Nymphs and Dryads; hovering at the edge of the training fields, watching his sister and her friends spar and laugh like the children they were. It was healing and heartwarming place to spend time in, his son always with him. Slung across his chest in a brilliant purple sling, the edges gilt in gold, silver and obsidian; clearly a gift from his Uncle, Father and Grandfather.

James was happy here, his little face quiet and calm as he relaxed and healed from his time on the run from their past. His sky blue eyes lighting p whenever they found themselves by the sea or by the Dryads pool. His baby laughter lifting up the hearts and souls of all those who heard it. Harry's most of all.

It was on the third day, as they made their way over to the Big House where they were staying temporarily, that Thalia Grace, Harry's sister, waylaid them. She had Zeus' sky blue eyes and his thick, black hair and was a tiny bit shorter than her older brother. She stood in front of Harry, one hand on her hip, the other wrapped about her stomach, her eyes narrowed and stern. Harry held James on his hip, the constantly growing baby giggling happily as Harry moved sparking fingers in front of his nose.

"Why haven't you moved into Dad's cabin?" Thalia demanded, her face screaming 'pouting angry teenager'. "Are you ashamed of him?"

Harry frowned, feeling something rather like hope, shrivel up and die in his chest. "I didn't realise I should be," he murmured quietly, ducking his head and lowering his hand and letting it hand by his side.

Thalia, unnoticed by Harry, frowned unhappily. "Of course you should be!" She snapped, "you're his son aren't you?" And didn't that make her jealous? The expression on her Dad's face as he stared at this boy in front of her. A boy that didn't even look all that much like him. Not like she or her brother, Jason, did.

"Of course I am," Harry said softly. "But I'm also considerably older than you and have my son to consider. Do you really want to sleep in the same cabin as a baby that has a tendency to scream at every hour of the morning."

Thalia's mouth flapped open, stunned. "Uh…"

"I didn't think so," Harry murmured. He smiled at his sister gently, "it's good to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you, though the stories don't do you justice."

Thalia flushed, "how can you be so nice. I practically accused you of being selfish when you weren't."

Harry shrugged, stepping in line with her, motioning her to follow him. "I'm used to those kinds of accusations, Thalia. It's hardly painful for me anymore." Thalia frowned and made to speak when her brother lifted a hand gently, ceasing her words. "Let me talk, Thalia."

He led her down the wharf and onto the jetty, settling his son into the bright purple sling and dangling his feet into the water. "You feel jealous of me, don't you?"

Thalia sat next to Harry, staring at his dangling feet and slowly soaking black jeans. They were elegant feet, narrow and bony with visible veins that stretched his pale skin tightly across the arches of his feet. Knowing that she was just prevaricating her answer, Thalia nonetheless turned to study her own bony, narrow feet that weren't as scarred or dirty, shod in black leather boots that didn't quite reach the water below them.

Thalia looked at her brother, his silence unnerving her, only to realise that he was staring at at the ocean with the expression of one who has rarely seen it. "You look like you've never seen the sea before," Thalia scoffed.

"I haven't." Harry answered gently, unconcerned by her audible anger and her stiff tenseness.

"Oh," Thalia said, embarrassed and awkward. She stared at her hands in her lap, uncomfortable and unhappy. She thought about why Harry was here. Her uncles reaction. The way he could touch Thanatos without dying. The expression on her Dad's face when he saw him. Even Poseidon had been awed and pleased to see him. "What makes you so special?" She spat finally, her tone demanding. "What makes you the favourite son after everything I've done for him!"

"I'm not," Harry answered, his voice calm and soothing.

"Bullshit!" Thalia snapped, angry tears clogging her throat and eyes. "I saw him! He looked stupidly happy to see you and when he left!" She was unable to finish and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Harry didn't even pause, he wrapped his long, bony arms around her, shifting his embrace so that James, slung across his chest, wouldn't get squashed. "He thought I was dead." Harry murmured, pressing his nose into her hair. "He has spent the last twenty-three years thinking I was dead only to find out that my parents ad been murdered and I had spent my life under the thumb of people who hated me."

"I'm sorry," Thalia muttered, not really sure what else she could say.

"It's okay," Harry replied softly, his voice thrumming in his chest and soothing his sister and son with its warm sound. "I've reconciled myself to my past. It wasn't pleasant but it wasn't the worst way to grow up either."

"Still, that's not fair," Thalia grumbled, feeling embarrassed and ashamed of her reaction to her brother. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to yell. I was just-"

"Jealous," Harry finished, a wry smile on his lips as he released his sister from his strong grasp. "It's okay, I understand. I kind of feel the same way."

Thalia looked up into her elder brothers deep green eyes, astonished. "You do?"

"Well, yeah, of course I do," Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not exactly proud of it, but I am. I wish-" He paused, licking his lips, eyes sorrowful and sad. "I wish I'd grown up like you have," he gestured around him, more towards the camp than the sea, but Thalia understood. "I wish I had a family I could've relied on, rather than fled from. I wish the my son had been born to parents that loved him more than they wanted to use him or fear for him. But most of all, I wish I had been loved and cared for as much as Father cares for you."

Thalia blinked back tears, getting the district feeling that her brother had not lived a happy life. That he had been… She was unable to think it, it was too horrible. She stiffened her spine and furrowed her brow. Her brother had been… abused. There, she had said it, and it made her so very angry. "Well, you have all that now," Thalia said, determined. "I'm never going to leave you alone, Harry. You're my family and I never leave my family behind."

Harry smiled at her so broadly that his cheeks hurt, "thank you, Thalia, that means the world to me."

Thalia grinned back at him, her blue eyes shining bright. "So, are you going to introduce me to the kid you keep lugging around?"

"This?" Harry asked, brushing a loving hand across his sleeping sons brow. "This is my son, James. He is my life and my whole world."

Thalia stared, delighted. "I have a baby nephew?"

Harry blinked before understanding flooded him and red crept across the back of his neck and ears. "Yes, I had forgotten that us being siblings made him your nephew. Sorry about that."

"Thats so cool!" Thalia grinned, "can I hold him?"

Indecision flashed across his face before Harry relented, "I guess."

He pulled the sleeping baby from his sling, hand cradling the head carefully and manoeuvred the child into Thalia's loving arms. Thalia bent down and pressed her nose to James' hair, berating in the sleepy, milky baby scent that characterised all babies. She took in the delicate features and the gentle slope of his nose, the dark feathering of his thick eye lashes and the milky tone of his ruby flushed skin.

"He's gorgeous," Thalia breathed, hugging the baby to herself gently. "He looks so much like you."

"Uncle Hades helped re-write James' DNA so that his mothers barely comes through," Harry said sadly. "I didn't want James to look into his own eyes and see the face of the woman who hurt him as a baby."

Thalia felt her eyes well up and her lips tremble, James' own mother had hurt him, and probably his Dad too. She trembled as she stared at her nephews face and made a silent vow to never, ever let anyone hurt her baby nephew again. Not on her watch. "I love you Jamesie, I'm gonna help your Daddy take real good care of you and no one's ever gonna harm you again. Not while I'm well enough to draw sword and keep breathing. I swear it on the River Styx!"

The sky above their heads rumbled in recognition of the oath and Harry felt something in him snap. Drawing a choked breath, Harry drew his knees into his chest, taking James back from his aunt and pressed a firm kiss to his sons head. "You hear your Aunty, James? She'll take care of you when I can't. I love you baby boy, I'll never fail you again."

Thalia listened to Harry's muttered avowals and drew her elder brother into a warm, firm hug. Just holding him as hot tears splashed down his thin face and shudders wracked his shoulders. He was so thin, Thalia realised, feeling his bones move beneath his shirt with little in the way of padding preventing their pointy bits digging into her chest, thighs and stomach. Her brother was a string bean who was maybe twenty pounds underweight; and that scared her.

"C'mon big brother," Thalia said, standing up and helping Harry to his feet. "Lets get you guys some food, I want you to meet my friends. I think you'll like them."

Harry nodded, his shaggy black hair falling into his eyes, "I think I will."

Harry followed his cheerful sister to the Dining Pavilion, watching as she pretty much danced her way around and between people, answering their greetings with hails of her own, a bright smile fixed on her beautiful face. Harry collected a plate over flowing with food and neatly apportioned each segment according to how the Gods he was paying tribute to, preferred it. Sliding each portion into the fire, murmuring words of thanks and gratitude, Harry finally returned to the buffet and collected his own breakfast. This plate was considerably less full.

Thalia grabbed her brothers hand and led him over to Poseidon's table where Percy Jackson, Nico DiAngelo and Annabeth Chase had all congregated, their happy chatted filling the room. "Permission to join Poseidon's table?" Thalia grinned at Percy who hastily agreed, his green eyes curious as he looked at Harry.

"Okay, so this is my brother, Harry-" Thalia paused and flushed, turning to her big brother who had pulled a bottle of milk from his pocket and was innocently testing its temperature on his wrist. "Uh, Harry?" Thalia flushed even darker as her brother met her eyes seriously. "What's your last name?"

"Potter," Harry replied. "My name is Harry Potter, I am twenty-four years old, the son of Zeus and the father of James, who is," Harry paused, staring at his son who had his fist in his mouth and was gnawing away quite happily. "Potentially teething," he finished, looking at the baby warily.

"Perseus Jackson," Percy replied, grinning. "Son of Poseidon. But everyone calls me Percy."

"Pleasure," Harry replied, smiling slightly only to wince as his son shoved his Daddy's fingers in his mouth and chomped on them happily. "Ow, Jamie, please don't chew on Daddy, cannibalism is frowned upon in most societies and I didn't raise you to be shunned!"

Annabeth grinned brightly at the man who was trying to extricate his fingers from his sons surprisingly strong grip. "Nice try, Harry," she laughed. "I'm Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena."

"The Goddess of Knowledge and Battle Strategy, right?" Harry smiled, relieved that James was now chewing on the nipple of his bottle, rather than his Dad's finger. "She's save my ass quite a few times over my life."

"You fought in a war, Harry?" Thalia asked, distracted from her cooing over James.

"Yeah, I'm a wizard, a legacy of Hecate." Harry explained, "and there was a war, oh, about six, seven years ago. I was the leader during it, we nearly lost but for this really obscure book on Greek battle strategy that I found at the back of this really old library in my Godfathers house. It was written by a daughter of Athena who had married into the Black family. Like I said, save my ass."

Annabeth straightened proudly. "We are the best at battle planning," she agreed.

Percy rolled his eyes, smirking. "Still can't beat the sons and daughters of Ares at swordplay though."

Harry laughed, "those who can, do. Those who plan, order those little bitches round." Annabeth stared at the green-eyed son of Zeus incredulously, that was hilarious. When she said so, Harry just winked and tugged the nearly empty bottle of milk from his grumpy sons mouth. "I said I was a leader, didn't I? I'm not the best fighter, but I'm certainly the best defender and planner. Which, in war, is one of the most important things to be able to do. After all, anyone can be cannon fodder, but not everyone knows the best place to put the cannons."

Annabeth nodded thoughtfully, intrigued by the idea. "Interesting." She murmured, watching as Harry settled the cloth sling across his shoulders and begin to burp his boy. "You're very wise, Harry."

"Living the life I have, you kind of have to know when to do what and how," Harry explained, patting his sons back. "Knowledge without wisdom is as useless as a banana split without ice-cream."

"Then that's not a banana split!" Nico said, shocked and horrified by the idea. Nico may not have many indulgences, but ice cream was one of them.

Harry shot the dark-haired teen a cheeky smirk, winking slightly. "Of course not…?" He trailed of purposefully.

"Oh, right," Nico blinked in surprise. "Nico DiAngelo, son of Hades."

Harry had a funny expression cross his face before amusement triumphed. "A pleasure to meet you, Great-Uncle Nico."

There was a pause before Nico flushed brilliant red, staring at the man who was close to twice his age while Thalia roared with laughter. Harry just smirked smugly, his propensity towards pranks having increased now that he was free and able to enjoy himself. Percy and Annabeth, however, had expressions of realisation on their faces as they remembered Hades' uncharacteristic hugging of the man in front of them. Hades was tender and loving with the very few people he cared about. Clearly, Harry was one such person.

**xXx**

It had taken nearly a month until Camp Half-Blood had settled back into its usual rhythm of training, having fun, avoiding chores, goofing off with friends, tribute making to parents and various heroes dashing off onto long, exciting quests. James had doubled in weight during that time, his chubby baby face making delighted expressions whenever his favourite people turned up. Thalia and Nico being top among them. While Harry was still stupidly skinny, although he had long since passed the point of 'stable', Thalia had taken it upon herself to fatten her brother up to a point where he was 'average'. Until she did, Harry was prevented from training.

Chiron had quickly fallen into the ever-expanding category of "We Love Harry Potter and His Adorable Son". The Centaur finding great solace in knowing that there were other Centaurs in the world who had survived the magical beings purge and had gained permission from Zeus to send an expedition to see if any of the Forbidden Forest herds would join them in Camp Half Blood.

Dionysus, or Mr. D as the kids called him, hadn't been as fond of his young cousin until the tall man had slipped him a bottle of something called 'butterbeer'. Not only was it made from alcohol but it was delicious, making his abstaining from alcoholic beverages that little bit easier. That Harry was Zeus' favourite meant that the man had managed to survive his wriggling around loopholes in Dionysus' punishment. Of course, James being adorable had nothing to do with his increasing affection for his younger cousin. Nothing at all.

So it was on a warm sunny, summer day that was lazy and a little bit boring that the kids of Hermes' Cabin and their counterparts in the Apollo Cabin decided to prank the Big Three's Kids. Waking up to Hades' cabin covering in pink glitter, Poseidon's pretty much underwater and Zeus' Cabin, somehow, upside down, had led to the unassuming Harry Potter becoming their worst nightmare.

It started simply, a trio of letters being dropped into the tribute fire, warning his Uncles and Father from retaliating because, frankly, the kids had damn near asked for it. And two, to watch the chaos that would follow. No one pranks a Master Wizard with close to fifteen years of magical experience under their belt and gets away with it. No one. Then, Harry had eaten dinner, handing James over to Thalia and Nico for the next hour and a bit with the admonishment not to loose the child. He had then pulled Annabeth into Zeus' cabin and darted planning war. A prank war, but war nonetheless.

At midnight that night, Harry struck. He conjured a tiny white rabbit at the base of Hermes' cabin preventing any other way of evading the tiny beast and changing its vocal chords to roar like a lion rather than chatter like a rabbit usually does and then added a 'sonorous' charm to it. On a stake stood a message board with instructions to get passed the rabbit. Then, he turned to the Apollo cabin, a smirk on his face and carefully carved a giant chasm across the front of the cabin with a small rickety bridge covering it with a small sign attached, complete with instructions in order to cross.

He then went to bed, amused at the sight of Nico crashed out on the couch and Thalia asleep on her bed while James sat in the middle of the floor, happily chewing on the teething ring that Hecate had enchanted for him. "Come on little monster," Harry smirked. "Lets get you to bed."

The screams woke him the next morning and Harry grinned as he rolled out of bed and wandered down the front steps. Beside him, Thalia and Nico stared in disbelief as the kids from Hermes tried to evade the rabid rabbit, complete with bloodied, shark-like fangs and a roar that was more than a little terrifying. Harry couldn't stand it, he cracked up. The rabbit was chasing a tall boy with curly brown hair, gnashing its teeth and trying to bite the kids ankles while the boy screamed for help dressed only in a pair of ragged pink and white boxers.

So far only three of Hermes' children had evaded the rabid rabbit, looking worse for wear and more than a little shellshocked at they watched their brother run around, screaming like a branded pig. It was about that time that a scream originating from Apollo Cabin drew the crowds attention. A girl having refused to do what the sign said, suddenly pitched over the edge of the chasm and disappeared with a scream only to reappear on the porch of her cabin. Harry snorted, this would be amusing to see.

A boy, clearly unnerved by what had happened to his sister, hesitantly stepped forwards and called out: "I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay, I sleep all night and I work all day, I chop down trees, I wear high heels, suspenders and a bra. I wish I'd been a girlie, just like my dear papa!"

The sky rumbled disapprovingly as the boy crept carefully over the rickety bridge, sighing with relief as he made it to the other side. The entire camp was holding their sides, gasping for air as they tried to calm down enough to rag on the poor kid who'd just survived Harry's pit of doom.

"And I thought you were so rugged!" Harry gasped, tears falling from his eyes as he clung to the front of his cabin. "Poofter!"

That was it for Thalia, she fell onto her back and howled with laughter, knowing that her brother was the one responsible for this. "Ow, ow, ow!" Thalia chanted, rubbing her ribs as they threatened to crack from the strain of her hilarity.

"FINE!" The Hermes boy screamed, "I'll do it, I'll do it!" Evading yet another charge by the rabbit, the boy started to sob out the requirement to escape the rabbit: "Plato, they say, could stick it away, half a crate of whiskey every day. Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle, Hobbes was fond of his dram, and Rene Descartes was a drunken fart: "I drink, therefore I am"!"

"You my friend," Nico gasped, slapping an arm around Harry's shoulders, James propped up on his hip. "Are the most evil and genius sonnova bitch I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Man our Dads and Uncles have gotta be proud."

Harry preened beneath Nico's admiration, smirking smugly. "My father and his best friends were the wizarding worlds best pranksters and they left me a book on charms and spells that are really, really helpful for pranking people. Besides, pranksters need to be able to take as well as they can dish out."

Thalia managed to straighten herself into a presentable position and hung onto her brothers slim shoulders. "I love, adore and worship you big brother, you know that right?" She asked, wiping tears from her face.

"Yes, yes I do," Harry agreed smugly.

By dinner word had got around that Harry Potter, son of Zeus and their very own recluse was responsible for the pranks on the Apollo and Hermes' cabins which had automatically led to a standing ovation by most of the camp and the dark looks promising retribution by the children of Apollo and Hermes.

The next day was quiet, too quiet and Harry spent most of it indoors teaching his son to say 'Dad', to Thalia's constant cooing. That night their cabin was broken into, the walls painted black and covered in strange symbols that seemed to glow in the moonlight. It wasn't until the next day that the reasoning behind the symbols became apparent as a trio of ghosts appeared and began to fornicate in front of a red-faced Thalia and a bemused Harry.

Staring murderously into her brothers eyes, Thalia very carefully enunciated: "make them pay, Harry!"

Harry gleefully got to work. Taking inspiration from his previous requirement of 'songs' to escape nearly-certain death (or at least, appearing-nearly-certain-death), Harry smugly crept from bed to bed enchanting each child with a different song depending on a code word that every other camper would be gifted. Leaving Thalia's own 'baby' on her bedside table, Harry flopped into bed for a quick snooze before awakening to the chaos that would swiftly follow.

Walking into breakfast, Harry grinned cheekily at the sight of nearly every camper clinging to their tiny scraps of paper and waiting for Harry to appear. Holding out his own and looking a bit like a school teacher but for his mischievously twinkling eyes, Harry loudly read out: "Will the real slim shady please stand up?"

Michael Yew, the counsellor for Apollo cabin, stood and quickly broke out in song. Waving his arms around in mimic of the rapper, Eminem, Michael was clearly trying to stop the song only for it to return with a vengeance, louder and more forceful than before. Until, in the end, the poor kid was practically screaming the lyrics out into the stunned Dining Pavilion.

Harry led the applause, smirking at the horrified boy who stared at him nervously. "Don't worry Mikey, you're on call for today. You're our nominated entertainment, isn't that lovely?"

Shaking his head, Michael bolted from the room only to return half an hour later defeated and unhappy. "He's enchanted out cabins to prevent us getting in!" He hissed to his siblings, shooting wary looks at the laughing green eyed man as he spooned a mouthful of baby food into his sons mouth.

"So, what do we do?" Austin demanded, his voice shrill with worry.

"Do?" Kayla demanded, "we do nothing. It can't be that bad!"

"Can't be that bad?" Michael demanded, glaring at Kayla angrily. "It's practically impossible to stop singing and when you do, it almost hurts!"

Kayla frowned, "what do you mean, almost hurts?"

"I mean, it's like standing in front of a toilet and trying to pee when you're busting!" Michael snapped in reply, rubbing at his throat.

"Ew!" Kayla wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That's disgusting!"

Michael shrugged. "We should call a truce!"

"No," Austin snapped, angry. "I'm not bowing down to that smug sonnova bitch. Our Dad is the King of Pranks, not the Big Guy!"

Austin held out on that opinion, despite his siblings desperate attempts to get him to reconsider after Chris Rodriguez broke out into Vanilla Ice's 'Ice, Ice, Baby' thanks to Thalia cooing over James for being 'such a good baby boy', until one of the Aphrodite Cabin smugly mentioned something about barbies to her best friend. It was utter humiliation, screaming about being a barbie girl in a hero world where life is not only fantastic but wrapped in plastic in the middle of dinner.

At the end of the song, Austin crept over to Harry on his hands and knees whimpering painfully. "Please, Harry, please, please make it stop!"

Harry considered the younger boy, taking in the traumatised expression on his face and silently acquiesced. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone and by the looks of things, Austin's throat was raw and very sore. As a gesture of good faith, Harry reached out and touched the boys throat and healed it, spreading icy soothingness across the raw parts. "You held out much longer than I expected," Harry commended the two cabins. "What have you learnt from the past week?"

"Not to piss off someone stronger than you?" Michael asked, wincing as his own throat. Sighing in relief as Harry gently healed him.

"I wasn't angry," Harry murmured. "And that wasn't the lesson you needed to learn."

"To not prank people and not expect them to return it?" Connor Stoll asked, his own memory of tag teaming the Village People's Y.M.C.A with his brother, Travis, was enough to bring tears of despair to his eyes. Particularly after finishing the song with a unified exclamation: "You make me feel so gay, Travis/Connor, I love you so much!"

That they were brothers didn't seem to have occurred to Harry, because he'd laughed the loudest and longest of any of the campers.

"Exactly," Harry agreed pleasantly. "Now, go eat your dinner and thank your fathers that I didn't do anything worse."

Deciding that they really, _really_ didn't want to know, the two cabins fled to their respective tables and thanked their fathers as Harry had dictated they should while apologising for not winning the short lived prank war. Fighting a Mage was not cool. Not cool at all.

* * *

><p><span>Authors Note<span>

Well, I cannot say just how in _awe_ I am at everyones response to this little fiction. Its honestly humbling the amount of views/reads I've had; you guys are making me all warm and fuzzy inside. Now, I've had a few reviews pleading for explanations about Harry's parentage (which is more complicated than I've already stated this chapter), James' legacy and various other things; I have one thing to say to you all: patience, you grasshoppers, it will be explained in time. I promise.

That said, I want to warn you all that despite the little bit of fluff at the end, its about to get a whole lot darker, meaner, nastier and may have potential to trigger some people who read this. If you don't like descriptions of abuse, rape, violent sex, or any other kinds of nasty things, now is about the time to turn your eyes away and flee. I've already changed the rating to T, more because I may have gone over the top than anything else, but I can promise that this will have a happy ending. Eventually. Maybe. If it suits me.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p><span>Greek Translations<span>

Gios tou Día: Son of Zeus


	3. Part Three:To Spíti Eínai Ópou i Kardiá

Author's Note:

Thank you all for your lovely feedback and reviews, I adore them. So thank you! The response to this story is incredible, I've not seen anything like it and I truly appreciate every favourite, every follow and every read that I get. It's been completely amazing.

That said, as I'm sure many of you remember last chapters warning at the bottom, and that goes into effect now. The last half of this story is covered in a great big **WARNING** for triggers of abuse, child abuse, trauma and general all round cruelty to adults and children. It's not nice, so if you don't like that kind of stuff, turn away now. However, if you can stomach it, then continue, please, and let me know what you think.

* * *

><p><span>Part Three<span>

To Spíti Eínai Ópou i̱ Kardiá Eínai

The first thing Harry was aware of when he came to, was that he was no longer alone in his bunk. As ordinary as that was, what with Thalia often being woken by her nephew of a night and responding by shoving him into his Daddy's sleeping arms, Harry was fairly certain that his con did not have black hair or a six foot tall body.

Yelping with shock, which Harry would deny for the rest of eternity, the dark haired son of Zeus fell out of his bed with a loud thump. Thalia and Nico, who were baby sitting James in the next room, darted into Harry bedroom only to freeze at the sight of the God of Travellers laughing uproariously in their brother/nephews bed while Harry was pressing himself to the furthest wall, buck naked and freaking out.

"Harry just got pranked by a God," Nico groaned, shaking his head. "Shit just got real." Deciding to flee the area before it exploded, Nico snatched up his favourite great-great nephew out of Thalia's arms and darted out of the Cabin. He didn't have a death wish, for all that he loved the Underworld, besides which, James would start squalling soon and would need a bottle of milk and some of those mushy solids that Harry was starting him on.

Thalia stared after her cousin, feeling betrayed by his absence and hesitantly stared at Hermes and Harry once more. The dark haired Messenger God was dressed in his usual outfit of nylon running shorts and a marathon t-shirt, his elfin features were split into a broad, mischievous grin. Alternatively, Harry was groping around his feet for his discarded jeans while keeping an eye on his godly brother, apparently not exactly trusting Hermes with his personal safety.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked as he finally managed to pull his jeans on, disregarding the uncomfortable rub of denim on his bare arse. He hated going commando.

Hermes just grinned cheekily, waiting for his demigod brother to calm down. Eventually, as Harry tugged on a black t-shirt covered in milk and grass stains, Hermes realised that, no, Harry wasn't going to be calming down any time soon and if he didn't start explaining, he'd be spending eternity as a frog. That Harry had forcefully stated this while pinning his divine brother to the bed, his green eyes furiously boring into Hermes' blue ones, was more a matter of happenstance than reasoning behind his capitulation.

"I come in peace?" Hermes hesitantly offered, realising that this brother of his, unlike those that came before, was considerably more powerful than he'd expected. No wonder his children hadn't stood a chance. Although, he could hardly _let_ the humiliation stand, they _were_ his kids after all.

Harry scoffed, releasing Hermes from his brutal grip. "A likely story, brother." Harry turned away, digging through his wardrobe in search of a clean t-shirt, the one he was wearing smelt of baby bile. "Why are you here?"

Hermes rolled his eyes, "I've come to take retribution for what you did to my children."

"And what about my own, Hermes," Harry replied, finding a dark green shirt at the very back that smelt of mothballs and must but was at least clean. He'd have to do laundry today at some stage.

"What children?" Hermes asked, stunned.

"My son," Harry explained. "Was, perhaps, not in danger by your children's follow up pranks. However the first one, had he not been in my bed that night with colic, would certainly have been adversely affected by the flipping of our cabin."

Hermes stilled, he hadn't known the particulars and news about Harry in Olympus was thin on the ground. All he knew was that Zeus, Poseidon and Hecate had been glued to the Seeing Pools, watching the events of the past week and cackling madly every time Harry had done something amusing.

"You have a son?" Hermes finally asked, his gaze curious.

Thalia, partially hidden in the doorway, was unable to help interjecting, "James. His name is James and he's nearly two and a half."

"A baby," Hermes murmured thoughtfully. He was quite protective of his own children, treasuring them beyond what was ordinary for an Olympian. Even those who drifted from the path that he would have preferred for them. Such as Luke. "I didn't know."

Harry smiled, tugging the green shirt straight as it clung uncomfortably to his broadening chest, "I know, brother, but you cannot deny that I had just reason to return fire on your children. Quite frankly, had Percy not been a son of Poseidon, he would have drowned in his Cabin. Equally, had Annabeth been visiting, as she often does, she could have drowned." Harry growled slightly and waved his hands, expanding the fabric of his shirt before it ripped from the continuous tugging at the hem. "It is not a matter of your children pranking others, Hermes, that has me concerned. But rather their inability to foresee the potentially fatal consequences of their actions."

"I understand," Hermes sighed, running a hand through his curly black hair. "I will have words with them before I leave."

"That would be appreciated," Harry accepted. "Now, before you do leave, you must surely be hungry, and while I know mortal food cannot surely compare to the feasts of Olympus, you are most welcome to join us for breakfast." Harry paused in the doorway, shooting a cheeky grin at his divine brother. "Besides which, you might like to meet my son, after all the trouble he's given your sons the past two days." Smirking slyly, Harry shrugged. "I may have made them my personal baby sitters while helping Dionysus with his stacks of paperwork."

Hermes grinned in delight, his eyes shining with glee. "This," he grinned, "I have to see."

"It's pretty amusing," Thalia agreed. "Of all your children, Lord Hermes, only Travis and Connor are able to sooth Jamie when he's grumpy or sad."

"That would be because they have younger brothers of their own," Harry noted easily, leading the way to the Dining Pavilion. "Still, they appear to loathe nappy changing time, apparently it's, and I quote, 'mutherfucking disgusting, man.'"

Hermes rolled his eyes, "true as that may be, their language needs some work."

Harry roared with laughter, entering the Pavilion with the dark haired God at his side, "they're teenagers, they all swear like sailors."

"Speak for yourself, Potter," Nico snarked, swinging in front of his cousin. "Not all of us are ingrates with a limited vocabulary. Speaking of which," Nico added, dumping James into his Daddy's arms. "Here's your own."

"He's not even three, Nico," Thalia complained. "Of course he has a limited vocabulary."

"Whatever," Nico rolled his eyes, gave a short bow to Hermes and stomped outside. The reason behind his bad humour spread down his back in a smear of white.

Harry snorted and cast an amused look at his son, "what did I tell you about spewing all over Uncle Nico?" James just grinned at his Daddy, blue eyes bright and unrepentant. "Brat," Harry sighed fondly, running a finger down his sons chest and belly, checking his health almost absentmindedly. Finding the baby well but for minor reflux, Harry settled himself at the Head Table, passing James over to Chiron who was absently chatting to Dionysus about something or other about the camp.

Pulling up a platter of bacon, sausages and eggs, Harry split his time between his and Hermes' plates, dishing up a decent portion of each for them both before levitating several other portions of food into the Brazier, murmuring quiet dedications to his Uncle, Grandfather, Grandmother, Father and friend. Beside him, Hermes took a bite out of a sausage, looking surprised at the quality of the food, clearly never having stayed at the camp for longer than it took him to deliver a message. Harry winked at his son, grinning as James tried to stuff Chiron's fingers into his mouth which was now filled with tiny, sharp baby teeth. Chiron's yelp showed James' success at biting the poor centaur and Harry and Dionysus roared with laughter as Chiron tried not to set a bad example and swear a blue streak like he clearly wanted to.

"Harry," Chiron grumbled, inspecting his hand carefully while watching the innocently smiling James from the corner of his eye. "Teach the boy some manners already! Before he eats me alive."

Harry snorted, pushing his still mostly full plate away and tugging his naughty son into his arms. "Yeah, because explaining to a two year old why he can't test out his new teeth is such a good idea," Harry rolled his eyes. "No really, I'm sure he'll understand."

"Sarcasm does not suit you, brother," Dionysus rumbled, manifesting a new coke can into his hands and dispelling the last. "You do not have the face for it."

"The face for it?" Hermes asked, bemused. There were times when he wondered if all of Dionysus' wheels were running in the same direction only to belatedly remember that Dionysus was, actually, a teeny-tiny bit mad. Being the God of Madness. Well, alright, the guy was completely bonkers, but that made him all the more fun at parties. Hermes shook his head, "you're an odd one, Dion."

"Says the Pigeon," Dionysus snorted, peering around Chiron to meet Harry's amused gaze. "Don't believe the hype, Hermes over there is nuttier than squirrel poo, let me tell you."

Hermes drew himself up, offended. "At least I have not been cut off by Father, or have you forgotten your punishment, Dionysus?" The Messenger God looked smug as he sneered at his younger brother, while the Wine God appeared to be furious.

"Okay," Harry cut in, annoyed. "That's enough of that, apologise, both of you, now!" As one both Dionysus and Hermes turned to stare at the green-eyed demigod, their mouths practically resting on their chests in surprise. Harry ignored their indignant faces and speared another piece of sausage in his mouth. "What?" He asked, mockingly innocent.

"You cannot be serious?" Hermes demanded, drawing himself up to his full height.

"I can and am," Harry returned, meeting Hermes' gaze with his own stern visage. "You are brothers, family. A bond exists between you that should not be stretched or harmed so easily by such foolish taunts. Apologise or I will hex you in place until such time that you both re-find your manners."

Chiron, who had until now been forgotten, winced at that particular ultimatum, knowing that while Harry was only reacting as any father would when his children, or family in this case, fought. The family in this case was divine and arrogant, unused to taking orders or ultimatums or apologising for transgressions. This would not end well.

"No," Dionysus refused and then made to stand up only to fns himself quite firmly stuck in his chair. "Harry, let me up. Now."

"No," Harry replied, refusing to look at either Hermes or Dionysus as they tried to fry him with the mere force of their gaze alone. "Not until you have made up with your brother." Harry pushed his chair back, standing, his son resting comfortably in his arms. He turned to Hermes who was pouting mulishly in his seat, "should urgent summons from Olympus come, you shall be released, as Dionysus will should anything urgently needing his attention come about. Until then, however," Harry stated severely, "you shall remain here and learn to forgive and apologise. Gods you may be, but even you need to remember to be kind and compassionate with your family."

That said, Harry then led the still nervous Chiron from the Pavilion, ignoring the shouts behind them from Dionysus and Hermes. Inside the Pavilion, the few demigods who were still eating, stared after Harry with utter shock writ on their faces, and awe at the older demigods balls at trapping a pair of Gods just to make them apologise to each other. It would quickly become legend. Stepping from the shade of the Pavilion, Harry noted the milling of the Demigods, his sister foremost among them, a silver chariot resting in the shadow of Cabin Eight, Artemis' Cabin. Harry felt his brows rise, the Hunters of Artemis had arrived.

There had been talk, but Camp Half Blood was much like Hogwarts in that respect, full of rumour and speculation but little in the way of truth. Inside the Pavilion, there came a hollow thud followed by swift footsteps and both Hermes and Dionysus appeared, red-faced and embarrassed. Shooting Harry a dark look, Dionysus slipped passed to welcome his favourite sister to Camp Half Blood. The few demigods left in the Pavilion appeared, their faces bright with excitement.

"Does this happen often?" Harry asked Hermes, watching Chiron make his way over to the women who had arrayed themselves in a loose semi-circle around a youthful and breathtakingly beautiful teenager, her eyes a silvery gold and her hair a rich auburn, and Harry knew that this, -this could only be Artemis. Goddess of the Hunt, Moon and Animals.

Hermes shrugged, "I have no idea." Casting a sideways look at his curious brother, Hermes noted the green eyes resting on Artemis' figure with something akin to physical pain in them. "I do know that the game of Capture the Flag is going to be highly televised on Olympus, as no demigod has ever come close to beating Artemis' immortal hunters."

"I see," Harry murmured, licking his lips anxiously. Ducking his head and allowing his shaggy black hair to obscure his face from view as Artemis scanned the area around him, Harry hunched his shoulders and stepped around Hermes, clearly unhappy. "Please, excuse me. I must leave."

Hermes stared after his demigod brother, wondering what it was about his red-haired half sister that drove the youthful man away. Before he could get any answers, however, there was a flash of brilliant light and a young man, about eighteen years old, appeared next to Hades' child. The kid, Nico, yelped and fell over backwards into Zeus' daughter's knees. Hermes rolled his eyes at his brothers actions and ignoring the ridiculous fly-sunglasses that he had perched on his aquiline nose. He had no time for Apollo just now, not when curiosity about Harry burned in his chest.

Slinking away from the gathering of gods and demigods, Hermes tracked Zeus' demigod son to a clearing in the forest. A place where a stream cut the clearing in two, a bed of pebbles and grass keeping the young man's son, James, occupied. Harry had stripped off his sons jacket, the warmth of the summer sun driving back the usual chill of the wind, allowing the cooing two year old to play in the shallow water, his father's arms bracing him with the utmost care.

Hermes sank beside his brother, taking in the scars that hid just beneath the collar of his shirt and sleeves of jacket. There was a story here, and not a kindly one either. James bubbled with laughter, splashing the water with delighted joy, spraying both his father and the God with equal imprecision. Harry waited, knowing that Hermes was liable to start asking questions, and dreaded the moment he would have to answer. Hermes was not Thalia, to be denied with placations of 'I'm not ready just yet, please, give me time'. No, the God of Messengers was more than likely to press the issue, to ask and ask and ask until Harry had no choice but to answer.

"Harry," Hermes murmured, his hand moving to rest on Harry's shoulder. "Tell me, speak to me brother," he pleaded, blue eyes shining with concern. Despite knowing the other man for all of four hours, he felt attached and concerned about the man beside him. A magically inspired concern, of that he was certain, as though Harry was Aphrodite's child, not Zeus', but a concern that was felt wholeheartedly nonetheless. "Share your burden with me," Hermes prayed that his brother would listen, would grant him confidence. He would be unable to help him otherwise.

"There's nothing much to tell," Harry lied, unable to help himself. Ignoring the feeling that he was being snuck up on, that they were being watched.

Behind them, a twig snapped and both God and demigod spun around to meet the sky blue eyes of Apollo, his golden hair messy and windswept. The God of the Sun, Music and Truth, thinned his lips, annoyed at the untruth told in his presence, for all that he was not supposed to be here.

"Lie," Apollo stated, coldly, cruelly. "But then, what else to expect from the bastard son of my Father."

"It's hardly a lie when I do not wish to speak of it," Harry snapped defensively, pulling his still happily babbling son close to his chest protectively.

Apollo regarded the man, the demigod in disgust. He had seen the way that his Father's son had regarded his sister and Apollo could hardly let the man live for lusting after her so. He may be many things, but a bad brother was not one of them. "We are gods, boy, if we ask you a question you are expected to answer."

Harry stood in a fluid movement, rage stamped on his features. Rattled by the sight of Artemis, who reminded him of his mother, angered by Apollo's demands for truthfulness and unnerved by the knowledge that Hermes would be asking him about his past, his scars and his son, Harry did the only thing he felt was right under the circumstances: he drew his wand, his son protected by the curve of his body, and tensed to flee. If he and Apollo truly fought, Harry knew that he would not survive.

"I owe you nothing, Godling," Harry snapped. "What happened to your children was their own fault."

Apollo scowled darkly, his expression thunderous. "I am not here about my children, although I am angered at their treatment by you." Apollo took a step forwards, driving Harry back two paces and in between them sat Hermes, his expression wide eyed and fearful. "I am more concerned by your reaction to my sister," Apollo breathed harshly. "Tell me boy, do you desire her as many have before you? Will you try and break her to your will as Orion once did? Or will you prefer to steal her, as the giant Otis tried?"

Harry looked revolted, "I want nothing to do with your sister!" He snarled, panting heavily, the tip of his wand glowing a sickly green. "To lust after one who looks, but for her eyes, the same as my mother once did?" Harry forced the rising bile in his throat back down. "I am no Oedipus!"

Apollo blinked in surprise, bemused by Harry's truthfulness. It was concerning to think that a mortal woman could look as fair as his own sister, but still, presumption must be punished. "And you truly find her unattractive?" Apollo scorned, disbelieving, "you would have me believe that you are untouched by her beauty."

"As I would be untouched by Aphrodite's own," Harry returned dryly amused. "Not that they aren't gorgeous women, but circumstances have led me to board the other bus."

Apollo stilled, utterly confused. What other bus? Sharing a look with Hermes, who appeared to be beside himself with hilarity, clearly understanding the reference, Apollo ran a hand through his shaggy blonde curls. "I do not understand," Apollo admitted.

Harry groaned and slapped a hand to his face, his wand nearly taking his eye out while James, bored at staring at the shiny river below him, mimicked his fathers actions. "They are of the wrong gender to my preference," Harry stated delicately, only for Apollo to cock his head to the side, still confused. "You're not serious?" Harry grumbled, "look, I like to, as they say, 'take it up the arse'. Something that is impossible with a woman as your lover."

Apollo turned several colours at once. White with shock, then red with embarrassment and then finally green with understanding. "You don't like women that way?" Apollo questioned, horrified. "How can you not?"

"Probably because the last woman I was with drugged me, raped me, hit me, cut me, and worst of all, hurt our son." Harry snapped in reply, tiring of this song and dance.

Hermes, quiet until now, stiffened in rage. "She did what?" He hissed, his eyes taking on a steely overtone as he silently raged within his own mind.

Harry sighed, "here, hold James for me." Hermes accepted the precious burden, smiling as the baby grinned toothlessly up at him. Harry ran a hand through messy black hair and stripped his jacket off and lay it across a sun warmed stone. Then he pulled his shirt off and stood there in front of both Gods before picking up his wand that he'd stowed in his pants and dispelled the heavy glamours that he wore constantly.

Apollo, who had seen many wars and all the horrors of the human race time and time again, ws horrified. Harry was whipcord lean without an ounce of fat on his body, his muscles clearly defined and every time he moved, they danced beneath his skin. But it was the long, thick scars that crisscrossed his back, front and sides that had the God of the Sun stepping back in shock. Scars that spelt out words like 'freak' and burden' were covered up by newer, shinier scars that were more akin to acid burns and what appeared to flaying, than slashes by knives and whips. It was a story of horror and abuse, stretching back decades and potentially, the entirety of Harry's life.

Hermes reached out, his hand shaking, and pressed the palm of his hand to Harry's chest, over the burn mark of a thinner, smaller hand. A woman's hand. And Hermes knew this to be the woman that had so tortured his brother that she had driven him from even contemplating a romantic relationship with another woman. His brother was so damaged by his past that the very idea of romance or love was frightening to him.

"Harry," Hermes breathed, tears streaming from his eyes. It had been so easy to believe that, while Harry had been abused, that it hadn't been that bad. That Harry was just traumatised and fearful for his sons life. Not that he had spent his entire life as someone else's whipping boy. "I'm sorry," Hermes breathed, "I'm so, so sorry!"

Harry smiled weakly, pulling his shirt back on and hiding his scars with another glamour charm. "It's fine, Hermes, you didn't know and nothing you could have done would have prevented it."

Apollo sank to the ground, the usually cheerful Sun God weighed by guilt and remorse, knowing, now, that Harry would never dare harm his sister or anyone else for that matter. Because he had experienced the cruelty and malice of other humans, and would never dream of doing the same.

"I should never have been so cruel," Apollo apologised, jumping as he felt Harry embrace him.

"It is not your fault, Apollo, you couldn't have known," Harry replied, soothing the other man, having long since come to terms with his life, for all that he hated talking about it. "Relax brother, I blame you not at all."

Apollo relaxed, comfortable in his brothers embrace and felt, more than saw, Hermes seat himself beside Harry on his other side, James asleep in his arms. "Did-" the Sun God coughed, "did you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head tiredly, "not really, but if I don't, then people will continue asking and it will never happen. Which then means people assume I don't trust them and then they start talking about therapy, which is useless under these circumstances."

"So what happened?" Hermes asked, unable to help himself, he was a sucker for gossip.

Harry shrugged, "what time?"

"Lets start with your wife," Apollo suggested, taking Harry's hand and pumping a small amount of his divine healing powers through the other man, soothing the pain and memories just a tiny bit. Easing them, to make it easier for Harry to speak.

"My wife," Harry mused, taking his son from Hermes' arms, suspecting that the Travellers God had soothed his son to sleep with a small amount of godly help. Which was fine, James was the grandson of a Marauder and not always the easiest to deal with. "My wife was named Ginevra Weasley, Ginny to her friends, and was, to my mind, the most beautiful woman on planet Earth." Harry choked a despairing laugh, "but I was deceived.

"Ginny didn't want me, as I thought. Though that was a hard lesson to learn, because she was just so perfect. She didn't care that I was messy haired and gawky. She didn't care that my eyesight is awful because of malnutrition when I was a child. She definitely didn't care that up to her, I'd shown little interest in dating because of a Dark Lord hunting me.

"She was perfect," Harry breathed, remembering the ease with which Ginny had convinced him to go out with her. "She had this really bright, dark red hair that shimmered like rubies in the sunlight and her skin was pale as milk, flawless but for a small smattering of freckles across her nose. She was taller than I was, but that's not exactly hard, seeing as my growth was stunted but she never seemed to mind. She just laughed that when we got married I'd have to wear heels so she could too, so the pictures wouldn't look weird."

Harry shook his head, laughing despairingly, tears streaming from his eyes. "Everything seemed so perfect that we decided to get married straight out of school. I was an Heir to a rich family, so I bought us a house and we moved in right after the big, white fairy-tale wedding. Ginny fell pregnant right away and for ages, it seemed fantastically perfect."

Beside him, Hermes and Apollo listened carefully, their sky blue eyes, mirror images of the others, shone with increasing concern. They knew that Harry was a Legacy of Hecate, the wand he carried around was evidence of that, but what was concerning, was the fact that the way he described his ex, as perfect? It rang all kinds of warning bells in their minds.

"The, after James was born, everything changed." Harry continued, "the Healers said it was post-natal depression, and I thought, if I loved her enough, that we could get through this. But Ginny didn't have a job, because we didn't need them, she hated being away from me, it was sweet. But after James was born, she just… changed. She was angry all the time, and sad. She blamed James for the loss of her girlish figure, not that I minded at the time. She was more lush and womanly, her hips wider and her breasts fuller. It was like every mans fantasy combined." Harry shrugged.

"But then she started hitting James, and," here Harry licked his lips, pained. "I can still see it, as if it was yesterday…"

"_Ginny was standing above Jamie's crib, her brown eyes dark and hidden behind her thick red lashes. Her face was twisted into a sneer, a heeled shoe in her hand as she watched James scream and scream, never moving from her position, never moving to soothe the uncomfortable baby._

_They were on their way to a Gala, James would be left with Andromeda and Teddy while Harry and Ginny would rock the Wizarding world with 'their hotness', as Ginny liked to describe it. Cooing over Harry's constant discomfort and dragging him out onto the dance floor despite his obvious reluctance. Harry stood in the doorway, his tie half-done and his jacket wide open._

_"__Gin?" He asked, concerned. "What's wrong, baby?"_

_Ginny turned to Harry, her eyes dark and angry, her face white and drawn and her hands tightly clenched about the toe of one of her favourite shoes. "He won't stop crying, Harry." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "Make him stop!"_

_"__I can't Gin, he's just a baby," Harry said, stepping into the room, trying to sooth his wife. "It'll get better though, I promise."_

_"__You promise?" Ginny sneered, rage overtaking her tears. "You, who can't even hold down a job with the Aurors and then MI5?1" She shrieked, throwing her shoe at him. "You're fucking useless, Harry! You never do anything right!"_

_Harry was stunned, too stunned to dodge the shoe and it glanced off the side of his face, cutting the soft skin and bruising it badly. Shocked, he watched Ginny spin around, turning on their son, slapping and hitting at the baby, making him cry harder._

_"__Shut up! Shut UP!" Ginny screamed, fighting against Harry who tried to stop her. She turned on him then, punching him in the jaw and sending him backwards into the wall. "You!" She snarled, furious. Stalking towards Harry, Ginny pinned him down with her foot, leaning over him. "You don't get to stop me, I'll teach that baby to shut up and you will obey me!"_

_But Harry hadn't been able to, and when Ginny had turned around again, he had staggered to his feet and shoved her away from his son. Then he had grabbed the child and ran into his and Ginny's room, stowing the child in a trunk beneath the bed and silencing his cries. Just in time for Ginny to come staggering into the room, a cut on one shoulder and her satin dress a mess of ragged edges and stains._

_"__You dare touch me?" She shouted, looking more demonic than the woman he'd married. "I'll teach you to not hurt me, you abusive son of a shit!"_

_Harry had covered his head an waited it out, his chest, back and sides aching with the force of her blows, his hands and arms protecting his head and his neck, trying to withstand the fury of her rage. Finally, Ginny had tired herself out, had stepped back, covered in sweat and tears, staring at the pathetic huddle that had been her husband. Harry had stayed prone, hiding between the bed and the wall, had watched Ginny change and get herself ready for the Gala._

_Before leaving she had turned to him, her eyes frosty and her face haughty, "I hope you have learned your lesson, Harry. I don't want to have to teach you again." The she had left._

_Leaving Harry behind her, bruised and cut up, to struggle into a shower and patch himself up before remembering his son, locked in a truck and silenced. It would take him three hours to sooth the baby, thankful that Andromeda had apparently forgotten to turn up that night."_

"After that, everything changed," Harry said, ignoring the way that Apollo and Hermes were practically growling with every breath they took. "Things rapidly spiralled downhill. Particularly after I quit my job."

_"__Harry slipped into the lounge room, taking in the sight of his son in a bouncer and his wife asleep on the couch. He had handed his resignation into the Director of MI5 today, effective immediately. He hated the way that the American's treated him and the way that MI5 just bent over backwards to accommodate the Yanks prejudices. That America didn't even have a functioning Magical world was just insult on top of injury, in addition, their hurt pride of Harry's abilities was just icing on top of a godawful cake that was hard to swallow on the best of days. Ginny wasn't going to be impressed._

_Nervously, Harry reached over the back of the couch and gently jostled his sleeping wife awake, feeling as her brown eyes snapped open and glared up at him. "Hey, Gin, I'm back." He smiled tightly, nervously. "How was your day?"_

_"__Shit," Ginny replied sourly, eyeing her husband. "What have you done now?"_

_"__I, uh," Harry licked his lips. "I quit my job."_

_There was silence and then Ginny exploded, "WHAT?!"_

_"__I quit my job," Harry hastily explained. "I hated it there, they were mean and nasty and I wasn't getting anywhere."_

_"__That doesn't mean that you should quit or only source of income, Harry!" Ginny screamed, waking James, who cried out, frightened. "Oh, Merlin, now look at what you've done. You're fucking useless, Potter, I wish we'd never gotten married."_

_Harry flinched, "I'm sorry Gin, I'll try better-"_

_"__There will be no next time, you moron," Ginny snarled, drawing her wand. "Crucio!"_

_Harry dropped to his knees and screamed, shock muffling the pain momentarily before his mind comprehended what he was seeing. But by then, it was too late. Ginny stood above him, torturing him, a triumphant and sadistic smile on her face._

_"__But you'll learn, lover," Ginny hissed, angry. "Oh by Merlin you will learn!""_

"It wasn't until I met Thanatos, who was moonlighting as a Quidditch talent scout, that I realised that this wasn't normal. I mean, I'd tried everything to make it better. I showered her with gifts, begged for her forgiveness, but nothing worked." Harry ran a hand through his hair tiredly, "I guess us going to that Quidditch match and Thanatos striking up that conversation with me, saved my life."

"_The Harpies were playing Falmouth and leading by about thirty points. Ginny was on the edge of her seat, screaming for Angelina Johnson to score already and to stop making eyes at Falmouth's new keeper. Harry sat quietly in his seat, tense and unhappy, as the Press circled around their Box seat, the Malfoy's in the box next to them, pleased as punch to be making tomorrows headlines. _

_Ginny turned to Harry, a cruel smile on her lips, "see, if you hadn't fucking gotten me pregnant, I would be on the Harpies team and making us real money!"_

_Harry winced, ducking his head, extremely thankful for the heavy glamour charms that hid his bruised eye and cheekbone. Ginny's parting gift and reminder not to fuck up today. "I'm sorry," Harry whispered, watching as the Harpies seeker dove downwards in the pursuit of the snitch. _

_"__Damn straight," Ginny snarled. "You'd better be."_

_The Falmouth Falcon's seeker pulled up from the dive, unable to maintain that kind of insanity anymore, even as the Holyhead Harpies seeker snatched the snitch from the air, barrel rolling out of her dive and coming up with a triumphant cry. Ginny leapt to her feet, jostling Harry as she did so, and made a spectacle of herself by screaming in delight, madly cheering and dancing. The Press had a field day and Harry knew he'd cop it tomorrow, intensely thankful that James was at his grandparents house for the weekend._

_An hour later the Potters were milling with the teams at an after game party, Angelina and George were quietly talking in a corner, their eyes misty and sad, clearly discussing Fred. Harry was by the food table, picking at a sandwich that Ginny had shoved into his hand, her eyes bitter with disgust._

_"__Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" A voice interrupted his thoughts and Harry turned around to meet a dark eyed, dark haired, pale man who towered over him by a good five inches._

_"__Sorry," Harry said soflty, confused. "Do I know you?"_

_"__No sir," the man smiled cooly. "But I know you."_

_"__Pardon?" Harry asked, feeling cold and out of sorts the longer he talked to the man in front of him. _

_"__I wish to speak with you," the man stated, scanning the area around them. "Alone," he added. "Are you free tomorrow?"_

_Harry stumbled, shooting a fearful look at his wife, "I don't know, I'll have to ask Ginny."_

_The man eyed him suspiciously, "then do so, Mr. Potter, I do not have all day."_

_Harry nodded, well used to following others directions by this point, and scurried in the direction of his wife. Ginny was surrounded by glittering paparazzi, expounding on the many things she, as chaser or seeker, would have done differently. The Press lapped it all up, knowing that Mrs. Potter, unlike her husband, was a glory and spotlight hound, willing to do anything to get on the front page._

_"__Gin?" Harry asked hesitantly, placing a wavering hand on her arm._

_Ginny spun around, an angry snarl on her face before it melted away into a loving expression, knowing that any hostility towards the Wizarding Worlds saviour wouldn't be well received. "Harry!" She cooed, enveloping her shivering husband into a tight embrace, squeezing a little too hard for it to be comfortable. "There you are, my love. Come, tell these good people how much you over the game!"_

_Harry froze, fearful of the bright lights that might dispel his glamour charm. At the cruel squeeze of Ginny's hand on his arm, Harry stammered out something affirmative, trembling like a leaf in the breeze. Ginny smiled sweetly, like a child at her mother begging for sweets. _

_"__Isn't he just darling," she cooed, stroking the side of his face. "So very shy, silly boy." She pressed on his cheek bone, daring him to cry out in pain, knowing that there was a very large, very deep bruise there, her smirk vindictive and sadistic._

_The Press clamoured for quotes, loving the sight o their golden couple in front of them, loving the firm embrace that Ginny wrapped her adoring husband in. Never guessing at the truth hidden beneath the sickly sweet exterior. Harry shuddered, managing to excuse himself and Ginny briefly, wanting to get her alone to ask her about tomorrow. Displeased but tolerant for now, Ginny followed her husband into a corner of the room, mindful of the many eyes watching them._

_"__Gin," Harry began, trembling with the knowledge that if Ginny got angry, that he'd get it tonight. "Are we, by any chance, doing anything tomorrow?"_

_Ginny narrowed her eyes, "why do you ask?"_

_"__Because, there's a man here who want's to meet up for coffee and talk," Harry said hesitantly._

_"__About what?" Ginny growled, paranoia settling in. Did this man want to steal her husband? Did Harry want to leave her? After everything she had done for him?_

_"__I-" Harry stammered, quaking. "I don't know."_

_"__You don't know?" Ginny hissed, her voice venomous. "And you expect me to let you go, just like that?"_

_Harry shook his head wildly, terrified. "No!" He yelped, his voice a bit too loud. "No," he said, quieter. "Of course not."_

_"__Good boy," Ginny cooed sickeningly sweet, a mockery of true affection. "Take me to this man then," she ordered, hanging herself on his arm, pressing her body flush against his. "I want to meet him."_

_Harry did so, leading his wife through the press of bodies who watched them with adoring expressions, having only seen a minor tiff that had led to Ginny hugging and cooing at her husband in a loving manner. Most assumed that Harry was apologising for forgetting something, never guessing at the truth._

_The man was where Harry had left him, his dark eyes and hair reminiscent of a certain Potions teacher that had made his life hell during his school years. Ginny, too, made the connection, if her disgusted sneer was anything to go by. A sneer that slid off her face the moment the man pressed a brief kiss to the back of her hand, overwhelming her mortal spirit with the icy drench of his power. Ginny stared at him, her chest heaving as she shifted in her knickers, the fabric soft and slick as her imagination ran wild. _

_"__Mrs. Potter, a pleasure," the man greeted her, a thin smile on his lips. "I presume that Mr. Potter has discussed the reasons behind this visit?"_

_Ginny, reminded of why she was here, stiffened and narrowed her eyes. "He has, and I'm afraid that tomorrow we are terribly busy," she lied easily. Not wanting this powerful man to be round her pathetic husband. "I'm so very sorry."_

_The man hummed in thought, "I'm sorry to hear that," he murmured, wondering why the Wizarding worlds saviour was bowing to a cruelly ambitious woman. He was more than powerful enough to see beneath the poor glamours that the man had erected about himself, he could see the cuts, bruises and what appeared to be a broken cheekbone. "Perhaps another time then, Mr. Potter," he said, turning to meet the green-eyed man's eyes, noting the shivering that wracked his body and the fear that lit up those luminous eyes. How had no one seen this before?_

_"__Indeed," Harry choked out, responding to the cruel pinch of Ginny's fingers. _

_"__Come along dear," Ginny demanded. "I want to talk to George before we leave."_

_The man watched them go, his dark eyes suspicious, the colour leeching from them as his true nature surfaced. Thanatos drew about his Invisibility Cloak and followed the Potters to their home, staring through the living room window and watching as Ginny lost it._

_"__How could you, Harry?" Ginny screamed, her paranoia overwhelming her. "How could you tell someone that you hurt us?"_

_Harry stumbled backwards, confused. Was Ginny hiding bruises too? Did he hurt her as badly as she hurt him when he tried to protect himself? Was that the reason behind her anger? Her Rage?_

_"__Im sorry," Harry pleaded, holding out his hands to try and calm his red haired demon. "Ginny, please, give me another chance!"_

_"__I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny replied, her voice tired and weary. "I can't. You never get anything right. You're useless to me, Harry, you always were."_

_Harry cried out as Ginny conjured a knife and stabbed him in the chest, the sharp blade slicing with ease through his skin and muscle. "Ginny, please, stop this!" Harry cried, grabbing her arms and trying to restrain her. "Tell me what I did wrong, I'll fix it, I swear I will!"_

_"__There's nothing to fix, Harry," Ginny replied viciously. "I'm sick and tired of your excuses! Of your pathetic inability to stand up for yourself! You're useless, Harry, a waste of space!"_

_"__No, please," Harry begged, darkness creeping in on his vision. "Please Gin, I'm sorry, for everything. Please, let me make it up to you!"_

_"__I'm sorry Harry, but you've left me no choice," Ginny said, ignoring her husbands pleas. She punched him in the face, sending him sprawling backwards, the knife she had conjured stuck in his sternum. "This is for your own good, Harry. Far better for you to die than to ruin our son with your madness," Ginny told him, raising her wand and staring into his eyes. "I wish you hadn't made me do this."_

_Harry screamed as a flash of green light enveloped him, the front door bursting open as he slipped into Death's embrace. Ginny spun around and met the eyes of a tall, dark, handsome man with coal black eyes. Behind him stood another, pale eyed and dark haired; the man from the Quidditch match. The had followed her here, she realised, rage overtaking her. _

_"__No__, don't you __dare__ touch him!" Ginny shouted, as the men tried to push her away to get to her lovers side. "You're not worthy of his presence!"_

_"__She's utterly mad!" The pale eyed man exclaimed, throwing her aside. "My Lord, please, resurrect my Master, bring him back to me."_

_The coal eyed man pressed a hand to Harry's chest, chanting briefly in an erratic, harsh language and with a clap of thunder, Harry's eyes snapped open wide and drew breath. In the corner of the room where she'd landed, Ginny screamed in horror, assuming that the coal eyed man had made a pact with the Black arts, that Harry had done the same._

_"__You're responsible!" She shouted, her eyed glittering with insanity. "You're the one that ruined my husband! __You've corrupted him__!"_

_The coal eyed man stared at her, a dark glare furrowing his brow. "Corrupted him?" He snarled, "this boy is my great-grandson, I would never harm him as you have! Leave now, before I truly __loose__ my patience!"_

_Ginny stood, stumbling into the fireplace, and disappeared in a whirl of green flames, crying miserably for her parents, her Harry, for her son. She landed with a thud in her parents living room, spotting her nearly six month old son immediately. She threw herself at his side, snatching the baby up and into her arms. "It's okay baby," she whispered madly, "I'll bring Daddy home, just you wait. Just you watch."_

_Molly Weasley hurried into the lounge room, her face morphing rom welcome to horror as she watched her daughter grab her grandson about his neck and hold the screaming child down. Ginny pressed her wand to the baby's chest and drew a long cut along it. She then dipped her fingers into the welling blood and drew runes on the stone floor in front of the fireplace, chanting beneath her breath, summoning her husband to her side._

_With a flash of bright, white light, Harry appeared, gasping for breath and trying to staunch the half-healed wound in his chest that had reopened in transit. "Thanatos!" He cried, pleading for the pale eyed man to save him as he took in the sight of his shocked mother-in-law by the doorway, his wife holding his son by the neck, a deep, bloody slash in James' chest. "Please, Ginny, no more!"_

_Molly jerked in shock, no more? This had happened before today? Staring at her son-in-law, Molly could well believe it. His body shimmered with glamours and the deep cut in his chest punctured the bones beneath. Her daughter had been abusing Harry for years._

_"__No!" Ginny screamed, her voice barely audible over James' cries. "No, you don't get to do this to me, not anymore. Not any longer. I won't stand for it! You belong to me! You are mine! Say it! __Swear that you will be mine__!"_

_"__Anything," Harry pleaded, desperate. "Just let Jamie go; please Ginny, you're hurting him!"_

_Ginny grinned, triumphant, and tossed her son to the side, uncaring of his life that she so readily endangered. "Oh Harry," she cried, throwing herself into her husbands arms. "You __do__ love me!"_

_"__No!" Harry cried, lunging after his son, snatching the boy up, inches from the stone floor. "__James__!" He screamed, running careful hands over his sons body. "Oh baby boy, you're okay! You're okay!" Harry whispered brokenly, "thank the Gods!"_

_Behind him, Ginny snarled in fury, her hands tightening on the handle of her wand, staring at Harry's unprotected back. "You choose __him__ over me?!" She demanded, rage palpable in her eyes, face and body. "YOU __CHOSE__ HIM OVER ME?!" Ginny screamed, pointing her wand at Harry's back. "YOU DON'T CHOOSE HIM OVER __ME__, POTTER!"_

_A jet of red light burst from Ginny's wand and slammed into Harry's back, sending James tumbling to the floor while his father doubled up and howled. Harry flung himself around, arching his back, doubling up again, curling his hands and kicking his feet. But worse were the screams. Loud, piercing, heart breaking screams and all the while, Molly stood and watched, unable to stop or move, frozen by the horror her daughter had become._

_In the corner of the room, by the fireplace, the shadows boiled and from their depths stepped two men. The first, tall and bearing a double bladed scythe, his pale eyes blazing with fury. The second was taller still, his coal black eyes burning with the fires of Tartarus and the rage of a protective parent. Thanatos swung his scythe, cutting deeply into Ginny's side, sending her tumbling into the walls opposite. While Hades knelt by his great-grandsons side and gathered the man up into his arms._

_"__Know that your family __will__ be punished for this travesty," Hades rumbled at Molly. "You have __failed__ to protect what is mine. More than that, you have __failed__ to protect one who you called son, __betraying__ your family and kin."_

_Thanatos scooped James up into his arms, running a hand over the infants body, noting the minor injuries that marred his body. "Come Hades, James and Harry have need of Persephone's skills. Let us leave this place."_

_"__Indeed, Thanatos," Hades agreed severely, scanning the house in disgust. "I have already called in a favour."_

_As Thanatos stepped into the shadows, he smiled cruelly. "Even when to busy to attend to it yourself, you still arrange punishment for those deserving." The Death God's voice was admiring and pleased. _

_Molly watched them go, a foreboding feeling building in the pit of her stomach. Across from her, Ginny extricated herself from the tangle of curtains, cushions and plaster that surrounded her, her red hair nearly white from dust. Turning to her daughter, Molly stared at her in horror, uncomprehending of what she had just seen. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, what __have__ you done?!""_

Harry sat on the bank of the stream, his sides pressed up against his divine brothers, Apollo and Hermes had long since wrapped their arms tightly about his body, pressing him between them in a fierce embrace. The telling of his tale had taken a long time, the morning having bled into afternoon hours ago with the Gods only pausing the recitation long enough to conjure up their demigod brother a drink and some food. Food which he had yet to touch.

"So Uncle Hades healed you?" Hermes asked, stunned by the turn of events. "He usually hates Father's children."

Harry shrugged, uncaring of there reasons behind his grandfathers leniency. "Perhaps it's because I'm his great-grandson on my fathers side?"

"That could be the reason behind it," Apollo accepted, plucking a grape from the plate before them. Biting into the sweet, yet tangy fruit, Apollo regarded his brother carefully. "You are something new, Harry. So very, very brave despite everything, but more than that, you are stupidly forgiving."

Hermes rolled his eyes, "just because you're more inclined to get even than forgive and forget, doesn't mean everyone is, Pol."

Apollo wrinkled his nose, "don't call me that, it make me sound like I'm a chicken."

Harry snorted, half-heartedly amused. "Not a stripper?" He asked.

Apollo froze, his eyes and mouth wide open. "NO!" He yelped, jumping up. "Definitely not a stripper!"

Hermes roared with laughter before sobering once more. "Apollo's midlife crisis aside, thank you for entrusting us with that, Harry. I don't know about Polly over there, but I appreciate it."

"No worries," Harry smiled gently, stroking a finger down his sons nose. "I'm just glad it's all over. Than and Grandfather took me to the Underworld, kept me safe for over a year before I was ready to leave. And while they were brilliant," Harry grinned cheekily. "They're as emotionally stunted as the other." Harry shook his head in amusement, "thankfully Persephone, Grandmother, was there and more than willing to talk all things babies, parenting and survival in a place that you hate, where the memories are terrible."

"Woah," Hermes breathed. "You got along with Ice Queen Persephone?!" The Messenger God shook his head in awe, "man, you've got balls of steel!"

"Perry is lovely," Harry denied, shooting Hermes an annoyed look. "I owe her my life and my sanity. Being a single parent while dealing with the worlds worst insecurities and nightmares?" Harry shrugged, "I would have killed myself within a month without Perry."

Apollo met his brothers gaze and both immediately concluded that Harry was Aphrodite's legacy. There was no other explanation for the man drawing so much love and support from the Ice Bitch, her husband the King Dick of Hell and the dark Lord of Death without being the most loveable person in creation. Which Apollo, who was so not the God of tact, immediately proposed as the reasoning behind Harry's good luck.

"I'm not though," Harry said, confused by the logic of his divine brothers.

"Not what?" Hermes asked, curious.

"To my knowledge I'm not a descendent of Aphrodite," Harry explained. "What I am though, is Blessed by Hecate as protection against abuse ever happening again. It kind, influences if you will, peoples thoughts about me into a more positive reaction. Persephone did the same for James, which kinda makes us impossible to hate when we're together."

Apollo flushed darkly, ashamed all of a sudden. That the Blessings were considered necessary, underlined just how terrible Harry's life was. That James had been Blessed by the Goddess of Young Life emphasised just how wrong they were about their aunt/sister. Clearly he needed to rethink his preconceptions about the woman who had caught his Uncles eye so well that for nearly a millennia, Hades had never strayed. And even when he did, it was with women who could be dead ringers for his wife. Understandably, Persephone never really forgave him for his dalliances, especially with women who looked exactly like her.

"I'm sorry," the Sun God apologised, ashamed. "Perhaps, when next we meet, I will be able to talk to Persephone without being…"

"Yourself?" Hermes asked his brother in amusement. "Come on Pol, you know that she's never going to listen to you, you've been awful to her for thousands of years."

"And maybe, she'll forgive you," Harry interjected, rolling his eyes. "What's the worst that can happen? She refuses your apology? Fine, means you need to work for it." He stood, ducting his pants off with one hand while the other held James firmly to his chest. "I cannot understand you gods, it's like you're incapable of admitting you were wrong."

"We mostly are," Hermes admitted, comfortable enough in his own skin to admit his own shortcomings.

"Then maybe that should change," Harry suggested, watching as Apollo waved a hand and dispelled the food he had conjured. "It's just a suggestion."

Apollo nodded, tired of fighting. Tired of hurting his brothers and sisters with his rash carelessness. Harry was right, he needed to apologise to those he had harmed and forgive those who had harmed him. "You are wise beyond your years, brother," Apollo told the green-eyed demigod. "I am pleased and proud to call you family."

"As am I, Apollo," Harry admitted. "Both of you."

"Why is that?" Hermes asked, falling into step with his brothers as they left the forest behind. "You seem awfully accepting of the whole thing."

"Probably because for the longest time I didn't have a family," Harry said, picking his way over the loose loam of the forest floor. "And now," Harry suddenly shot them a bright, broad smile. "Now I have a family, and even though my time with the Weasley's turned sour, I can't bring myself to give up on the idea of family. That I have a Father, Uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters? It's amazing for someone, who until recently, thought that the only way they'd get a family was to marry in to one or to create their own."

Hermes smiled, instantly deciding that Harry was forever going to be his favourite brother, "you and Hestia are scarily similar, Harry. I cannot wait until you meet."

"Yes," Apollo agreed cheerfully, his heart singing in his chest as he watched his demigod brother gently wake his sleeping son. "She will love you dearly, and with good reason."

Harry laughed, joyous. "As you do not?" He teased, gently, his eyes shining. He had never imagined that his half-brothers would ever accept him. He had thought that they might be disgusted and avoid him. Instead they now slung their arms over him, Apollo tickling James' fat little tummy, aiming the baby squeal happily and Hermes pressing a fond kiss to his brow.

"We love you, brother," Hermes stated. "We will love you forever and ever." He added childishly and sappily, making his bright blue eyes large and pathetic.

Harry laughed, "as I love you, Herm."

"Herm?!" Hermes protested. "Do I look like a Herm to you, Harrison?!"

"Just Harry, Hermy," Harry winked cheerfully, ducking beneath his brothers arms, holding James in his arms, nice and tight so he didn't get jostled.

"Polly!" Hermes complained loudly, his eyes laughing. "He called me Herm! Get him!"

Apollo couldn't help but laugh as Harry took off running towards his cabin, knowing that the Messenger God could easily catch their brother but instead decided to chase him, laughing madly while making funny faces at their nephew. Harry darted into his cabin, skidding to a stop in the living room and poking his tongue out at Hermes, who was still staggering up the front steps. James laughed loudly in his Daddy's arms, enjoying the blue eyed Gods mock wheezing and wriggling of fingers in his direction.

"Man, for a human, you sure are fast!" Hermes groaned, staggering into the room and flopping on a couch. "Slave, bring me water."

Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes and dumping his son into the Messenger Gods arms. "Sure Hermy, whatever you say."

"Dude, c'mon, don't call me that!" Hermes complained, smirking at his brother as the Sun God entered Zeus' cabin at a more sedate pace.

"Water or coke, Apollo?" Harry called out from the eating area where they kept a small amount of sweets, drinks and all manner of other kinds of goodies. Harry broke into a wide grin when he noticed a pile of Wizarding chocolate in the cupboard, clearly Hecate and Zeus had teamed up to supply the green-eyed demigod with the wonders of home.

"Water's fine," Apollo said, wrinkling his nose at the thought of coke. He hated the sugary, acidic drink, much preferring Fanta or Pepsi max. Apollo's eyes widened in delight when Harry returned to the communal seating area. "Dude, is that chocolate?"

"Not just chocolate," Harry answered haughtily, raising his nose into the air. Outside the steps creaked as someone stepped onto the porch. "It's Wizarding chocolate, which is ten times better than any other chocolate in the world. Well, so far that I've tasted anyway," Harry admitted, grinning sheepishly. A fist knocked on the door and Harry paused in the movement of sitting down. He groaned and thrust himself upright once more. "Dammit," he muttered. "Who is it?"

"Harry? Is that you?" A tall red haired woman poked her head around the door jam, meeting the green-eyed demigods eyes.

Harry whitened and swayed on his feet, and Apollo leapt up and steadied him. "Harry?" The Sun God asked, "are you okay?"

"Harry?" The woman asked uncertainly, her brown eyes worried. "Sweetheart, can I come in?"

Hermes stood, James in his arms whimpering, joining his brothers sides and stared at the woman in concern. "Who is that, Harry?"

Harry blinked rapidly, trembling badly. "No, no, no!" He whispered, shaking his head. "You can't be here. You can't be here!"

"Harry, what are you talking about baby?" The woman asked, her mouth curling up into a sly smile. "Are you scared of me, Harry? You know I don't want to hurt you."

"Please, Ginny," Harry whimpered. "Please, no more!"

* * *

><p><span>Author's note:<span>

The next chapter won't be as dark or heavy, well, it will, but will end on a much lighter note. I hope you enjoyed it.

Also, out of curiosity, I was wondering if anyone wanted to make a real banner/picture thing for this story, because while I'm a pretty decent writer, I'm lousy at art. So, if anyones interested, let me know, I'd love to see/use it.

Until next time, my friends,

Sar'Kalu

* * *

><p><span>Greek Translations:<span>

To Spíti Eínai Ópou i̱ Kardiá Eínai: Home is where the heart is


	4. Part Four: Oi Pénte Kýklous Ti s thlípsi

**A/N:**

Before we start, I feel a bit like gloating about you all, why? Because you guys are freaking amazing. Check out the stats to this story! No really, you guys are my favourites ever!

**Reviews**

37

**Favourites**

158

**Followers**

234

**Communities**

10

And, last but certainly not least,

**Views**

5,570!

How awesome is that? Super big thank you to everyone here! Big round of applause to all y'all! (Love the Southern American accent, it's a teeny, tiny bit awesome, just saying.)

Kindest and fondest regards,

Sar'Kalu

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Harry, what are you talking about baby?" The woman asked, her mouth curling up into a sly smile. "Are you scared of me, Harry? You know I don't want to hurt you."_

_"__Please, Ginny," Harry whimpered. "Please, no more!"_

…

Part Four

Oi Pénte Kýklous Ti̱s Thlípsi̱s

Apollo stood rigidly beside his brothers, horrified that the creature that had so tormented his kind-hearted demigod brother now darkened his doorstep. She was beautiful, and had it not been for the words and the memory of his brothers white face and haunted green eyes, well, he would, as they say, be tapping dat ass. As it was, his hands ached for his bow, ached to sink one of the golden, feathered shafts through her breast, to see that cruel light dim and flicker from her eyes as she fell into his Uncles embrace. Though, in his opinion, Death was far too kind a sentence for her.

Hermes drew his sword of Imperial Gold and levelled it at the hell bitch that had harmed his littlest brother, his eyes steely with his fury and his face like marble it was so hard. "Leave now, before I make you!"

Apollo, surprised by Hermes' initiative, backed his brother up, drawing his bow and aiming a golden arrow at her heart. "Please," he snarled, rage like fire in his voice. "Just give me a reason, bitch!"

Ginny backed up, holding her hands out placatingly, "you wouldn't dare." She smirked, producing a silver bow and toyed with it threateningly, "you wouldn't want to piss your sister off, after all. I am her newest favourite," Ginny looked so smug it hurt, and Hermes let out a snarl of fury.

"You dare challenge me, girl? A God?" Hermes roared, his divine fury a sight to behold. "You who harmed my brother and his son? Your husband who you should have protected?" Hermes shook his head, breathing heavily, "no, you all have no protection from me, I will have my pound of flesh!"

Ginny staggered back, the two irate Gods driving her from the reach of Cabin One, their weapons aimed at her heart. Behind them, Harry held his son and trembled, trying to snap out of his fearful state. Behind him the shadows warped and bent, and from their depths Thanatos stepped, his pale eyes concerned as they fell upon Harry's quaking form.

"My friend, my Master," Thanatos breathed, stepping up to the green-eyed demigod. "What has happened to you?" Thanatos pressed his nose into Harry's messy hair, feeling a pang where his heart should lie at the knowledge that Harry was so small because of his poor childhood. "I heard your screams in the Underworld as I placed that fat bastard on the rack."

Harry jerked at the sound of his friends voice, relaxing bonelessly into Thanatos' arms. "Than, please, restrain my brothers before they harm her and piss off Grandfather!" Harry cried hoarsely, straightening suddenly and throwing his servant off balance.

"Who, Harry?" Thanatos asked, mentally calling for his Lord and King, and behind him, from the shadows, stepped Hades accompanied by his wife, Persephone.

"Harry!" Persephone cried, stepping forwards to wrap her favoured demigod in her arms. Not even Nico came close to the preference she felt for the green eyed man, her husbands great-grandson. "By Olympus, what has happened to you?!"

"She returned," Harry said with a shudder, feeling as though he was thirteen once more and helplessly defiant in front of a hundred dementors and waiting for salvation. It was the same feeling of despair and fear. Clogging and overwhelming.

"Who's returned, my grandson?" Hades asked, his coal black eyes wary as he stared at his trembling favourite.

"Ginny," Harry whispered, clutching James to him tightly. "Ginny's one of Lady Artemis' huntresses and Hermes and Apollo seek to kill her." Harry spun around as much as Persephone's arms allowed to meet his Grandfather's furious gaze, "Grandfather, don't let them kill her! Artemis mustn't know!"

Hades scowled darkly, "I am sorry, Grandson, but this is something I cannot do. Ginevra has evaded punishment long enough and to Tartarus I will drag her!"

Persephone grinned viciously, pleased. "Do so, my husband, and I will stay with you for Spring and Summer!"

Hades blinked, shocked. "You would stay in the Underworld for the six months you are due at Olympus?"

"If it gets me away from Nike and Iris, then gladly," Persephone admitted. "They seek for me to give up my place at your side so that Nemesis may take it."

Hades stiffened in rage, momentarily distracted from the issue at hand by Nemesis' presumption. The Goddess of Revenge, while beautiful, had nothing on his wife, and while Hades and Persephone had a fairly rocky relationship at times, that did not mean that he desired to take a mistress or new wife. Admittedly, Harry had been behind that particular realisation, as the bonding between his Grandson and Wife had emphasised just how bored Persephone was in the Underworld. After all, as the Goddess of Springtime, Flowers and Fertility would hardly be comfortable in his Kingdom which was death, torture and perdition.

"Consider it done, my love," Hades swore, a hint of the boy he had been three millennia ago creeping into his voice, leaving Harry to tremble, his arms around his son, and worry at his godly sisters reaction at one of her Hunters betrayal. Hades turned to his great-grandson and caressed the boy with his power, thick, dark and deathly, smiling cruelly. "You will never be harmed again, beloved."

Thanatos followed the Lord of the Underworld out into the sunshine, his scythe hefted onto his shoulder as he scowled at the gathering of children around him. He hated children. With a fucking passion. Something that Harry was forever amused by. Apollo and Hermes were being held at bay by their sisters' bow, her Hunters arrayed behind her, protective of the tall red head that, hidden from curious eyes, smirked triumphantly, confident in her 'untouchable' status. Thanatos bared his teeth in distinct pleasure, longing to take the hell bitch in hand. To disintegrate her into her atomic components and spread her about the cosmos, never to regain her form or abilities.

Harry followed the deathly duo, Persephone hugging him tightly, her mouth twisting bitterly at the sight of Nico and Thalia, who stared at the 'Ice Bitch from Hell' hugging their half-brother to her bosom. It certainly gel with how they perceived her. Percy wouldn't believe it at all, when they told him in three weeks. Artemis stared, stunned by the sight of Hades and Thanatos, wondering just what Ginevra had done to piss off one of the Big Three; let alone the God who defied all human attachments but for those who had sprung from his loins. Behind Hades and his primordial lackey was Persephone, her green eyes amused as she met the stunned gaze of Artemis, her arms around a thin, willowy man with bright green eyes and messy dark hair. She did not recognise him at all.

"Uncle," Artemis greeted the Underworld King warily. "What brings you here?"

Hades, his coal black eyes furious as they zeroed in on the craven bitch that had harmed his grandson, ignored his niece for favour of winnowing his way through the crowd of Hunters, confident in the belief that none would dare harm him. Shooting out a hand, Hades gripped the shoulder of the less confident Weasley, her married name having been stripped from her upon Persephone's boarding of the "we love Harry Potter" train.

"You have harmed my grandson," Hades rumbled, pulling the red-haired bitch from the crowd and throwing her at Thanatos' feet. "You have raped him, magically, physically and emotionally. You have harmed my twice great-grandson, a child, an innocent."

Artemis gaped at her Uncle, confusion and worry sweeping her as he raised a fist to smite her newest Hunter. Desperation spurred her, and foolishly, Artemis jumped to the conclusion that her Uncle had been had by the green-eyed male, forgetting, however briefly, that Hades was impossible to lie to. All gods and goddesses were.

"Father!" Artemis cried out, looking up at the blue sky. "I need you!"

Thunder crashed and lightning sparked across the clear blue sky and with a thundering boom, Zeus appeared in the middle of the group sending the stunned demigods stumbling back. Zeus turned to his daughter, her fair face rarely seen upon Olympus and dear to his heart, for all that he didn't show it well. "Hail daughter," he greeted. "Why have you called me here?"

Artemis pointed silently at her Uncle, feeling the full weight of Hades' fury as he glared at her. "Accusations have been made, Father," Artemis said coldly, unwilling to believe a man over a woman. Her scars, millennia old, were salt raw today. "I wish to know the truth."

Zeus turned to his brother only to freeze at the sight of the red head that lay at Thanatos' feet. "You found her," he noted, his storm grey eyes darkening furiously. "Brother!" He ordered, calling to Poseidon. "I request your presence."

Poseidon stepped from the ocean, human sized and darkly amused. "The moment I heard Artemis call for you, I knew that she had been found."

Artemis stared between her father and uncles, knowing immediately that things were not as they appeared. "What is going on?!" She demanded, stalking forwards, forgetting their audience of stunned and horrified demigods.

"Nothing that concerns you," Poseidon snapped, stunning the Goddess into silence.

Apollo however, was not so easy to persuade. "Like hell," the Sun God sneered, storming forwards. "That bitch," he pointed at the frightened mortal at Deaths feet. "Harmed our brother!"

Harry, unable to ignore the argument anymore, pressed his face into his sons sleepy body, trying to hide. "Please, Apollo, don't bring me into this."

Zeus smiled at his son, pleased to see the boy again. The events of the past few days had kept him amused to say the least. "Harry, she harmed you. She made you bleed!" Zeus was furious at the mere thought. "I will have my pound of flesh!"

"Don't you think that is my choice to make, Father?" Harry asked without thinking, shock spurring him to speak.

Zeus stared, stunned. "Pardon?"

"I said," Harry repeated in a clear voice, the baritone soaring over the heads of the crowd. "Don't you think that is my choice to make, Lord Zeus? If I wanted to punish Ginny for what she did to me, don't you think I could do it myself?"

Artemis bristled angrily, males, forever talking of punishment for women. "Who are you to determine whether she should be harmed or not?!"

"As the one she abused," a cool voice stated, Hecate stepping from the trees behind the Moon Goddess sneered at Ginevra coldly. "I would say that he has very good reason to want to harm her."

Artemis sneered at the Goddess of Magic, disbelieving. "And men have never lied about women before?"

"This is not like what happened to you, Lady Artemis," Harry said softly, stepping forth hesitantly. Behind him, Persephone swiftly stole James from his fathers arms, desiring to keep the baby from the godly battle that would surely occur soon. "I have no desire to hurt Ginny, nor do I wish any harm to come to her. I have long since forgiven her, her actions."

Zeus stared at his son in disbelief, "Harry, no!" The Thunder God reached out in plea, trying to chance the dark haired mans decision. "You cannot be serious! She has scarred you, harmed you!"

"As I did her," Harry muttered, stepping forwards to meet Ginny's brown eyes and sighed. "Gin, I loved you once, but some times, love just isn't enough and while I can forgive you for what you did, I will never forget."

Ginny shook her head, fearful in the presences of beings a million times powerful than she, but no less covetous of Harry. "You will never leave me, Potter!" She hissed, her voice manic and crazed, "you are mine to have and to hold! Or have you forgotten your vows?!"

Dionysus, hidden behind the crowds of demigod campers, stepped forwards and sneered, "this one is one of mine." He noted. "Her mind is shattered beyond compare, beyond even my own."

Zeus' mouth tightened, disliking the reminder that his once-heir was crazier than a bag full of cats. "Nevertheless, as my sons abuser she will suffer within the Tartarus, or would you mutiny against me, Daughter?" Zeus snarled wrathfully, shifting his gaze from Dionysus to Artemis, who paled beneath his heavy stare.

"No father," Artemis backed down, accepting her brothers embrace and relaxing into it gratefully. For all that she loathed men, her brother Apollo was by far the kindest and noblest she knew. Even if he was an utter dick to mortal women and the nymphs, dryads and merfolk. "I accede to your wishes."

"Well I don't!" Harry refused, thankful that James was wrapped within Persephone's embrace, knowing that the boy would be protected and loved by her should this turn out poorly. Zeus turned on his son, his blue eyes bleeding grey with fury, Harry lifted his chin and clenched his fists tightly. "I have forgiven her, Father, all I ask is that you leave her be."

Hecate sniffed in annoyance, swanning her way towards her grandson and brushing a hand over his head, "you have need of Apollo's touch, grandson." Her purplish eyes gleamed with cunning as Poseidon and Hades both restrained the young man between them, "as I suspect she does too, for they stink of compulsions, potions and foreign magics."

"You failed to mention this previously, Hecate," Hades grumbled, flexing his bony fingers over his great-grandsons arm as the young man struggled between he and his brother.

"Previously I had not seen Harry and Ginevra in each others presence, nephew," Hecate rebuked icily. "Apollo," she hissed warningly, sending the golden-haired Archer God scuttling over to Harry and laying a hand on his chest, purging him of everything foreign and cruel. Harry's eyes rolled back and he sagged between his Uncles, James fussing in his sleep and Persephone bounced the child carefully, her green eyes worriedly fixed upon her step-grandson's body in her husbands arms.

Apollo then attempted to heal Ginevra only for it to fail. His blue eyes narrowed in surprise as he forced more of his Godly powers through her shaking frame, watching the damage close over only to shatter once more beneath his touch as he tried to go deeper and wider. It was though he was a child trying to fix a spiders web only to widen it and wreck it further with every passing second.

"There's nothing to be done," Apollo stated, stepping backwards his expression confused and worried. "The damage is too great, if anything, I'm taking it worse."

Harry stirred in his grandfathers arms and his eyes, once they fluttered open, met Ginny's in horror. "By the Gods, what have you -we done?!" He whispered, "what was done to us?!"

"It would appear that your Headmaster was not such a great man after all," Hecate explained not unkindly. "It appears that he sought to control you not just in life, but after death as well.

"The love potions given to you by Mrs. Weasley reacted with both your loyalty and obedience compulsions, creating a feedback loop that in you Harry, made you overly protective of your son; but in Ginny, created an inability to accept your sons presence in your loves for the love potions inspired jealously, anger and envy instead, poisoning her mind against him and you.

"Truthfully," Hecate said, knowing that airing Harry's dirty laundry like this was cruel but wanting the other demigods to understand the dangers of magic and mistrust. "It was not her fault. Not entirely," Hecate clarified musingly.

Harry stared between Ginny, who lay on the ground still, and Hecate, who watched him curiously while evaluating his state of mind, and wondered just when his life had become a mockery of everything he had sought for himself. For James. When had love become a curse and cruelty? What had he done in a past life to deserve this? And yet, for all his despair, anger and worry, Harry still did not blame Ginny, he was simply unable to. His wife lay on the ground, her mind broken from the stress of life, shattered by her mother, fractured by their Headmaster and undoubtably twisted by Voldemort and Harry still loved her. Felt that no blame belonged to her, she was as much a victim as he was. His heart ached and tears streamed down his thin face.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he whispered brokenly, pulling his arms from his Uncle's hands and knelt by his wife, shakily drawing her into his arms and holding her tightly. "Oh Gods, I am so sorry!" His shoulders shook and great gulping sobs wracked his body as he struggled to understand just why this had happened. Where had he gone wrong? "Please, Gods, please Gin, forgive me!"

Ginny lay uncomprehending in his arms as Persephone shuffled closer, James in her arms, wondering if Ginevra wanted to see her son again. Behind her, Artemis was once more in her brothers embrace, crying in horror at Hecate's revelation while Apollo and Hermes put up their weapons in shame. There was no glory to be had in threatening those who had little to no mental faculties. Who could not see the world for their horrors. Dionysus had long since left, shamed by his own admittance of insanity, shamed by not recognising his half-brothers own shattered reflection, and had sought solace in the bottom of his diet-coke cans, pretending they were wine and getting drunk off his own misery.

Harry cradled his wife closer and ignored Persephone's presence, tilting Ginny's head back and staring into blank brown eyes. Eyes that flickered with life as she caught sight of her son and then, like a light, she switched from off to on, swinging up a silver arrow and into Harry chest. Behind the pair, Zeus let out a shocked cry as the silver arrow-head speared through his sons back and the Lightning God barely managed to catch his son as the man fell backwards, his green eyes sightless and wide in his thin pale face.

The reactions from the various Gods was predictable and brutal, and the demigods that bore witness all immediately swore to very pious lives of self-reflection and obedience. Zeus was busy holding his son while thunder, lightning and the wind raged about the camp, a storm brewed overhead, vicious and wild. While Poseidon's fury stirred up the seas and pelted the gathering with frigid, icy cold rain and Hades' split the very Earth asunder, spilling Ginny from Harry's arms and down a gaping, yawning chasm into Tartarus itself.

It would remain there for eternity, forever known as the Pit of Despair.

...

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN:**

Surprise! Happy Update Everyone, I hope you enjoyed it. Fifty dollars monopoly money to those who guess correctly what's going to happen next. This is the second last chapter, people, we have one more left, and it's going to be a doozy. I promise.

Kind regards, and as always, leave me a review, I do so love them,

Sar'Kalu

* * *

><p>Greek Translation:<p>

The Five Cycles of Grief: Oi pénte kýklous ti̱s thlípsi̱s


	5. Part Five: Oi Ennéa Kýkloi Ti s Kólasi s

**A/N:**

Congratulations to my darling readers, listed below, who picked up my terribly overt hints and threaded it all together. I adore you all,

Mrmikezabini227

evenstarlily

Merlyn Pendragon

Salllzy

Also, I'm really, really sorry for what I'm about to do to you all. It will be completely explained in the next chapter, but I've left hints. Thank you everyone for your patience and support of this fiction, I truly appreciate it.

Regards,

Sar'Kalu

...

* * *

><p><span>Part Five<span>

Oi Ennéa Kýkloi Ti̱s Kólasi̱s

Harry woke with a gasp, his green eyes shooting wide and taking in the wide arched splendour of the room around him. He lay on a couch shaped like a wave and he suspected that it was called a 'divan', made for lazing about on on sunny days with a good book and a cup of tea. Or so Ginny had told him once. He was bare chested and without a single scar marring his smooth, lightly tanned skin. Beside him sat a woman with glorious scarlet hair and deep brown eyes, she looked so much like Ginny that it was like a constant ache in his chest, and Harry had to turn his face away, so as to spare himself.

"Do you not find me lovely, young Harris?" The woman asked him, her eyes shining with mirth. A delicate and gentle hand rested on his arm, drawing his attention back to her and Harry shivered beneath her touch.

"I do," Harry admitted, "but you remind me of my wife so much that it is painful to look at you, my Lady." He knew who she was, Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, Desire and Pleasure.

Aphrodite tossed her head back and laughed joyfully, "ah, my beloved nephew, such a little charmer!" She pinched his cheek before standing gracefully, calling out musically: "Dear Sister, your charge has awoken!"

"I know, Aphrodite," a gentle voice sounded from behind the beautiful Goddess. Harry sat up straighter as a small girl entered his field of vision and sat upon the chair that the Love Goddess had vacated. "Welcome, Harris," she said with a small smile. "To Olympus!"

Harry stared at the tiny girl, taking in her robe-like white dress and soft brown ringlets that cascaded down her back and bounced whenever she moved her head. This, he assumed, was the Goddess of Home and Hearth, Hestia. "Olympus?" He asked, even though he was certain that he meant to greet her… Harry ducked his head in embarrassment and stiffened when Hestia leant forwards and hugged him tightly.

"Yes, dear heart, Olympus," Hestia agreed over Aphrodite's cooing about how cute he was. "Home of the gods. Your home," she added quietly.

Harry stood roughly, knocking Hestia back and nearly staggering into Aphrodite, who started at his sudden movement. Dismayed and disorientated, Harry stumbled over to the nearest window, unmindful of the cool breeze that washed his near naked body, and stare out over the fluffy white clouds and shining sun and moon that hung impossibly side by side in the sky. Olympus, he stared, the home of the gods and only accessible if you were a…

Harry stumbled back, warding off the image of Olympus that had burned itself into his retinas. No, not him. Not now! He had a son for Merlin's sake! He had to raise his child and… and… take care of… people… Thalia! Percy! Annabeth! Nico! Harry spun around wildly, looking for an exit. He had to make sure his cousins and friends were okay. He had to find James! Make sure that his son was okay, that Ginny hadn't got to him!

Memory of the last events that he remembered sparked in his minds eye, Ginny acting irrationally, Hecate's horrible and cruel revelations, Ginny's sightless brown eyes, Artemis crying in her brothers arms, a flash of silver, pain and then… cold…

Jumbled together, Harry held his head and cried out, stumbling around and narrowly missing bumping into a fiery brazier, Hestia's shocked warning unheard as Harry screamed and relieved his last moments as a mortal. Aphrodite had long since fled, seeking out the one God she was certain could help her beautiful nephew. The one God who knew intimately love, loss and the insanity it brings.

Harry was crouched beside the divan he had awoken on when both Apollo and Hermes flung themselves into the room and caught sight of him. Apollo hung back in shock at the sight of his brothers pale face and weary, grief-stricken expression while Hermes skidded to a halt by the younger Gods side and grabbed his forearms, restraining the hands that tugged at messy black hair.

"Harry!" Hermes gasped, his breath coming fast and furious as he stared urgently at his half-brother. "Harry, please, look at me!" The Messenger God bent closer to the younger God and gripped his forearms tighter, "Harry, please!"

Harry lifted his head and stared at Hermes, taking in the earnest blue eyes and dark curly hair of his half-brother, uncomprehending of the other Gods presence. "Hermes?" He whispered, "what happened, Hermes?"

Hermes closed his eyes, pained and not entirely willing to answer that question. It was such a loaded answer and one he could never forgive his father for. "You…" Hermes choked, stumbling as his throat and chest tightened in memory, "you died, brother."

"I remember," Harry admitted slowly, tugging an arm free of the Messenger Gods grip and rubbing at his chest. "But why…" he trailed off as movement behind Hermes drew his attention to his other half-brother, Apollo, who stood watching him with bright blue eyes beneath messy golden curls and trembled while one hand reached out to touch him. "Why am I here?"

"Do you know where we are, Harry?" Apollo asked hoarsely, snatching at his brothers hand as it reached for him past Hermes' shoulder and grabbing it tightly.

"Olympus," Harry whispered, his eyes darting around them, taking in Hestia's warmly welcoming quarters that glowed with soft firelight. His emerald gaze swung once more to Apollo, the Sun God, asking once more, "why am I _here_?"

Hermes shook hi head in denial, stepping back and releasing Harry from his grasp as he turned his face away so that his young brother might nit see his shame and guilt. Apollo mirrored his Messenger brother, dropping Harry's hand and licking his lips in nervousness and fear. Neither God wanted to be the one to tell their brother, while behind them, Hestia watched and grieved for the young God before them, his eyes wide with shock and fear before denial, once more, took over.

"No," Harry rasped, standing and backing away, his hands held out, palms up as if to stop them. "No, no, _no_!" Harry denied, shaking his head, "I can't be! I just _can't_ be!"

"You are, Harris," Apollo stated, Harry's new name foreign on his tongue. "Father declared it not minutes after you passed and Hestia came to the camp and confirmed it, she said you had arrived in her chambers pale and wane but unharmed."

"And Ginny?" Harry asked hoarsely, "what happened to my wife?"

Hermes wrinkled his nose at the name of the woman who had murdered his brother before his eyes, he hated very few people but Ginevra Weasley would always be pre-eminent on that list. "In Tartarus as often as the demigods can kill her," Hermes said calmly, as if this wouldn't horrify his brother. "Our Uncle was angered beyond belief at your death and dragged her down there himself personally, changing her into a monster of jealousy and hate, a tarnished silver arrow tipped with the poisonous blood of her victims to remind her of all that she has lost."

Harry moaned and sank once more to his knees, covering his face in shock. "Please, no," he whispered in denial yet knowing that it was true. "Ginny!" He trembled and shuddered beneath his brothers hands as they soothed him in the only way they knew how. "Ginny, forgive me for what I have done!"

"No," Apollo hissed, wrapping a strong arm about his brothers shoulders. "No, brother, it was _not_ _your_ _fault_!"

Harry turned his face into the Sun Gods chest and wept bitter tears. "It _was_," he rasped in self-hatred. "It was _my_ fault," Harry continued. "I should have _known_. I should have _seen_!"

"But you didn't," Hermes snapped softly, grabbing his brothers chin and forcing the younger God to look at him. "You couldn't have known or seen what was happening! Do you forget your own plight, littlest brother? Do you forget your own troubles with James and running for your life and trying to survive?"

Harry stared at his brother in shock, "James," he whispered with bloodless lips. "My son! Hermes, what happened to my _son_?!"

Hermes closed his eyes and turned his face away, "Harry, please, do not ask me." The Messenger God covered his face with his hand and his shoulders shook with soft trembles. "Please, you do not want to know the answer."

"Leave it be, Harry, please," Apollo pleaded, pressing his face into his brothers shoulder, his hot tears running tracks down the younger Gods skin. "You don't want to know."

Fear gripped Harry tight, bleeding ice though his veins and his breath choked in his lungs. "Please, Apollo, Hermes, what happened?" He asked, his voice changing from pleading to demanding. "_Tell_ _me_!"

But neither Apollo or Hermes could speak and both shook their heads while clinging to their younger brother and hid their faces from the world. Hestia, who had watched and observed her nephews and their strange, loving bond, stepped forth, willing to accept this burden on her brothers behalf. Even if she did loathe Zeus for his decision and his enforcement of it upon the rest of Olympus, Hestia knew her brother, loved him with her whole heart despite his flawed ways and so would break the news to her nephew and hoped that it would not destroy his relationship with his father.

"Harris," Hestia spoke softly, drawing the attention of the three youthful gods by the divan, taking in their similar features of clear blue and green eyes and curly hair, features that her brother bore so handsomely and she couldn't help the fond smile she gifted them before her expression once more subsided into grimness. "Harry," she sighed, understanding that her newest nephew was perhaps not ready to wear his godly name. Not yet, anyway. "What your brother have no wish to tell you is how long you slept. How long you have been here, and how…" she paused, swallowing thickly, "how long time has passed on the surface of Earth."

Harry straightened, staring at his aunt in fear and terrible hope. "How long?" He asked, pleading that it was not so long after all. That the fear inspired by his brothers was nothing. That they were over reacting. That everything was going to be okay.

"It has been close to fifty years, Harry," Hestia explained softly, sadly. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, nephew."

"_No_!" Harry shouted, struggling in the too tight grip of his brothers as they clung to him fiercely. "**No**!" He roared once more, tears cascading down his cheeks. "No!" Quieter now, subsiding into Apollo and Hermes' arms as they held him tightly. "No," he pleaded as tears leaked helplessly from the corners of his eyes. Beside him, his brothers wept and sobbed, releasing the grief and loss of their nephew as their brother cried for his son.

"I'm so, _so_, sorry," Hestia breathed, bowing her head as her own tears began to fall. "I'm sorry!"

…

…

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN:**

Harris (meaning 'virtue', Greek form of 'Harry'): God of...?

(hints regarding his godhood have been rife through the story, cookies for people who can figure out what Harry is God of)

...

...

**Greek Translation:**

Oi ennéa kýkloi ti̱s kólasi̱s: the Nine circles of Hell


	6. Part Six: Zi miá Gia Tis Ilikíes

**A/N:**

Hello my lovelies,

Here it is, the answer to all your questions, and another very short chapter. Kudos to those who guessed the truth or came, oh-so close!

Wechard, got one part correct: abuse/survivors

AnimaeBook's, was so close!

Salllzy, got two correct: forgiveness and compassion

KagomeInuDeman, got one correct: forgiveness

Thank you all for your fabulous guesses, it was highly interesting to see what you all thought Harry/Harris might be.

...

...

Below is the full description of our favourite newly instated Greek God:

Harris (meaning 'virtue', Greek form of 'Harry'): God of Forgiveness, Compassion, Grief, Loss, Demigods, Survivors and Abused Children

...

...

* * *

><p><span>Part Six<span>

Zi̱miá Gia Tis Ilikíes

Zeus sat on his marble throne and contemplated the marble stairs of his dais, ignoring the soft hum of conversation that flowed around him gently, wary eyes flicking towards him as his fellow Gods monitored his mood and demeanour. The past fifty years had been cruel on them all. Zeus had been coldly determined as he refused to allow his son to surface to consciousness while his grandson still lived.

A pale figure dressed in white dashed into the room and made her way towards Dionysus, the mad God reclining on his own throne and staring into his bottle of butterbeer, remembering when he had been introduced to the drink by his brother. Alcoholic yet cooked to burn the liquor out, butterbeer was the closest to alcohol that he could imbibe in without Zeus' curse taking effect.

Aphrodite knelt by her nephews throne, ignoring her husbands furious expression as the blind Smith God tracked her progress through his knowledge of her light footed step. "Dionysus," she breathed, laying a hand on his arm and startling the God of Wine from his contemplation of his drink. "Your brother has awoken." Dionysus closed his eyes and let a single tear slide from beneath his eyelids. So, he thought bitterly as he shot a dark raging glare at his father, James has passed on then.

"I understand," Dionysus acknowledged as he stood and brushed passed his sister, Artemis, who wept silently, remembering the times she had spent with her demigod nephew, hunting the sacred stags of Greece, playing games with he and his demigod friends, and the delight she had felt the first time Harris' son had rallied the demigods of Camp Half-Blood to his banner and defeated her Huntress' by a narrow margin.

Beside Artemis stood Persephone, clad in her usual green, who was silent and still, tears pouring down her high cheeks as her emerald gaze stared at Zeus and watched her father clench his hand in rage and helpless yet cold determination that he had done the right thing.

"Come," Persephone whispered, tugging her gentle sister passed the gathering of Gods, her green eyes meeting her husbands coal black gaze and ensuring that the Lord of the Underworld followed her. "We have a brother to greet."

Hades' step faltered as he overheard Persephone and his jaw tightened as he realised that his twice-great grandson now awaited him in his Halls. Cruel pain swept his chest and mind and it was all he could do to restrain the bitter tears in his eyes. Zeus' restriction on James' life had extended beyond Harry's forced sleep. Had extended to the other Gods, forbidding their interference with the young demigods life. Preventing all but Artemis from visiting with James. Zeus had gone so far as to recall Dionysus from his place as the Director of Camp Half-blood.

Inside Hestia's rooms, Harry sat on the floor cradled between Apollo and Hermes while he cried. Hades knelt by his grandson's side and pulled the godling into a tight hug that had the younger God howling his grief into his grandfathers black clothes. Persephone and Artemis clung to each other as they watched their husband/uncle carefully manage their grandson/brother's grief, hugging him and soothing him while muttering quiet nonsense to ground the young God in his despair.

"Grandfather!" Harry cried, his green eyes red rimmed and luminous as they spilled pearly tears down his thin cheeks. "What-" He choked, "what happened to my son? Why am I fifty years out of date?"

Hades shook his head, refusing to answer despite feeling that his brother deserved his grandson's rage. "He was killed," Hades said softly. "Ginny hunted him down, his family down…" Hades trailed off, his voice filled with guilt and remorse for the creation of Ginevra the Monster. The _Zília_, as the new demigods called her. The monster of jealousy that hunted men with dark hair and green eyes, claiming them to be her lovers only to murder them when they refused her or didn't conform to her expectations. Despite her monstrous transformation, Ginevra had not lost a mite of her glorious beauty and was quite tempting for the male demigods who she called for like a Siren.

"Family?" Harry asked, his depression receding enough that he could think with a modicum of logic and sense.

Artemis stepped forwards, smiling slightly. "After your ascension, Thalia refused my offer to become a Huntress and stepped up as James' mother; teaching him, loving him and constantly speaking of you. She married Nico, who had become something of a father-figure for James and together they bore three children, who James then took over primary care of when Thalia and Nico died during a quest close to thirty years ago."

"James himself, was never claimed by anyone, given that you were asleep and Zeus forbade it," Apollo continued, his voice tight with fury over that slight against his brothers son. To remain unclaimed was to be considered 'lesser' than other demigods. "Thus when he was old enough, James left Camp Half-blood and met a nice girl who was a legacy of Hecate and bore two kids."

"I have nieces and nephews and grandchildren?" Harry questioned, feeling overwhelmed and furious. He had missed out on so much. His sister and uncle were both dead and buried, had been for decades now! Harry buried his face into his hands and felt tears and rage overtake him once more.

"You do," Hades agreed. "And James awaits within my Halls." At that pronouncement, Harry stared at his grandfather incredulously and hope filled. "You didn't really think that I would refuse you visitation rights on your son? Zeus has no sway in my Kingdom," Hades snarled, his dark eyes burning wrathfully. "I'll be damned before preventing any reunion between you both."

"Thank you, Lord Hades," Harry breathed, hugging the older god tightly. "Thank you, grandfather!"

Hades smiled tightly and stood once Harry had released him, smirking as Persephone pulled him into a rough kiss, her gratitude and relief palpable as he held her. Apollo and Artemis were celebrating by twirling a disgruntled Hermes around while Harry just watched and grinned, unaware of his mad brothers observation and Aphrodite's gaze that lingered on him from the doorway. Despite James' death, Harry was reminded that for Gods, death was no more permanent than a scar.

...

...

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN:**

There we have it, the end of chapter six. Next chapter will be the big showdown filled with much anger, angst and confusion and Harry meets Hera, Ice Bitch Queen herself, who will clear some things up, potentially, and might end up killing our beloved Godling.

Just kidding.

That said, thank you everyone for your support and for making me highly amused that Gios ti s Thyellas kai Ouranoú has 69 reviews. Yeah, it's childish but that joke still amuses me. So sue me.

Keep up the good work guys, I love hearing/reading(?) your input and guesses. They usually inspire me to add a twist in, just to keep you all guessing. Yes, that's right, you read that right. All those heartbreaking moments are your fault because someone, somewhere, reviewed and gave me an idea.

Ciao and regards!

Sar'Kalu

"Possibly THE most evil writer ever"

P.S. ww1990ww, awesome idea...

...

...

Greek translation:

Zi̱miá Gia Tis Ilikíes: A Loss for the Ages

_Zília_: jealousy; the name of the monster who had once been Ginevra Weasley.

_Zília _carries an arrow of silver that is blood stained and poisonous like the acid in her heart. Should one be scratched by this arrow, the person will be haunted by feelings of possessiveness, jealousy, envy, rage and fury. There is no known cure for a scratch from _Zília_; not even the Nectar works.


End file.
